Outbreak
by Hippo Scuba
Summary: A mysterious virus breaks out in the arcade. It quickly spreads throughout it, affecting the characters to their very codes; and the only way to stop it threatens to make them forget everything they have all worked for.
1. Evenin' Plans

**This story was written in conjunction with the awesome and talented Feesh! Who's tumblr can be found by searching "Fix-It-Feesh". I tried to link her here, but the link just wouldn't want to work, haha.**

**I ****_strongly_**** recommend you check her out! :)**

**Anyways, I plan to update this once a week; most likely every Sunday.**

**Enjoy!**

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The arcade had been very peaceful following the events in Sugar Rush. The word of what had happened had spread quickly, and soon enough most of the arcade had gained a new kind of respect for their resident 'bad guys'. It was great. Sugar Rush went back to being the peaceful candy-coated, go-karting game it was before, and the citizens of the game - though it had taken a little bit of time - had eventually gotten used to their new (or old, rather) monarch once again.

The game characters that had previously been homeless, were now taking up residence in _Fix-It Felix Jr.,_ and many would say that it was because of them, that the classic game had regained some of its former popularity in the arcade. The residents were _definitely_ not complaining.

In fact, it seemed like everyone was happy. Everything was going well.

At that particular moment, the voice of one of the game characters from a dancing game near the entrance of the arcade rang out, signaling the end of the day. The arcade was now closed, and though it was 'game over' for the day – it was _now_ that the characters themselves got a chance to come out and play.

* * *

Fix-It Felix Jr., pushed the door to the newly-fixed apartment building open with a smile and looked to all the NPCs that were gathered around the door. "Good job, everyone!" He told them. They all offered him their own forms of congratulation, and made their way around to do their own things. Felix quickly cornered the building, only to see a hulking man pushing himself up out of the mud.

"Oh man, I think I swallowed some!" The hulking figure said with a laugh, standing up and rubbing his oversized hands off on his overalls. Felix laughed as the two walked together. If someone had told him a year ago, that he would have ended up being best friends with his game's antagonist, he most likely wouldn't have believed them.

The two made their way to the small tram station that was near the entrance to their game, and Felix hopped into it with a grin.

"Are you going somewhere?" The wrecker questioned him with a knowing smirk.

"Sure am, brother. I'll catch up with you later. I think I may have talked Mary into making you another cake." The fixer grinned, amused at the excited look that crossed his friend's face. As the tram took off towards Game Central Station, he waved back at him.

The ride through the tunnel was pleasant, the peaceful '_clickity-clack' _of the tram on the tracks echoed off of the walls. Soon enough, it came to a stop, and the excited man hopped over the side of it and raced his way through the main area. The hub was filled with other game characters that were currently getting off work. Though he only had one location in mind. He went straight for Hero's Duty and ducked inside the portal leading to it, eventually coming out the other end to meet with a particularly bleak and unwelcoming environment. Though he'd long since gotten used to it at this point… well, _kind of_. Though he didn't mind. He wasn't here for the environment.

There was no official 'quitting time' in Hero's Duty. Not even after the arcade closed. Unlike most games that worked together to clean up a day's worth of messes, the soldiers of the first-person shooter were always on alert for a rogue Cy-Bug that may have escaped the final beacon of the night. This was quite the meticulous process, since it involved everyone scouring the barren land for any traces of the godforsaken viruses.

Naturally, Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun led the group of hulking men. In spite of her gender and slightly shorter stature, she was just as tough - some would argue even _tougher_ - than the males she commanded. This proved to be especially true when she barked orders and disciplined anyone who disobeyed. The woman didn't hold back when it came to her position.

Not even when they were off-duty.

With the routine perimeter check done and out of the way, they all returned to the loading dock. From there they would head in their own personal directions, whether that entailed relaxing in their bunks, heading to Tapper's for a well-earned drink, or, in a certain blonde's case, spending time with her new husband.

Calhoun traded her armor for something a bit more comfortable, yet still entirely fitting of her role: She wore a fitted black tank top, camouflage pants, and strong combat boots. An olive duffel bag was slung over her shoulder as she headed to the train. She could have been running drills or practicing in the simulation hall, but her evening plans consisted of something a little more engaging.

Or at least something that _didn't_ involve shooting her gun.

When he spotted her walking towards the train, his eyes lit up almost instantaneously and a large grin was plastered on his face. Even now, after all the time they had known each other, he could still feel his 8-bit heart speed up whenever he saw her.

She was pretty much his exact opposite. She handled dangerous situations on a daily basis with ease. She commanded a squadron of men in the most dangerous game in the arcade, and not only that, but she was entirely dedicated to making sure they did not go through a repeat of the Sugar Rush incident.

She definitely lived up to the title of her game; and despite the fact that her game was pretty much the complete opposite of his, and all in glorious high-definition too, she still was content to spend time with him. So he just grinned up at her as she approached.

No sooner had Tamora approached the train did she spot a familiar face. A smile pulled at her lips - one that was reserved for Fix-It Felix Jr. alone - as she knelt down onto one knee to be at face-level with him.

"At ease, soldier," she told him softly, reaching out to playfully pull the brim of his hat over his big blue eyes.

"Hello, Tamor-_ah!_" He laughed and stumbled back slightly when she reached over and pulled his hat down over his eyes. A blush colored his cheeks and he lifted the brim of his hat back up to look at her. "How was work?" He asked her with a smile.

"Like any other day on the clock," Tamora replied, watching him. "Killing those filthy abominations and trying to get into the tower." Surprisingly, though, the kids in the arcade were getting much better. It wouldn't be very long at all before one of them actually defeated the game and won a medal. Until then, however, it would be her foremost obligation to do her duty, just like every other soldier was expected to do.

Without warning, she grabbed onto the small hero's shirt collar and reeled him in for a well-deserved kiss, causing the tiny man to yelp out in surprise. Though his shock quickly gave way to a pleasant smile as he melted into the kiss. This woman wasn't the type to wait for a man to make a move. No, she'd always been forward and clear with her demands. She didn't - nor would she ever - hold back.

Once the kiss ended, she slowly pulled away with a satisfied hum, leaving him to simply stare at her with a dazed smile. "How was your day?" she asked in return. "Do a lot of fixing?" She knew it was Felix's job to clean up Wreck-It's messes, but at least the two were on better terms now that Ralph was an acceptable part of the Niceland community, rather than the disliked brute he'd previously been.

"Oh, um. Yes! Busy." He cleared his throat and attempted to look somewhat composed as he readjusted his shirt. Though how effective that was, he couldn't say. "… so, did you have any plans for tonight?" He asked, giving up in his attempt to smooth down his shirt.

The blonde shook her head. "Negatory. I'm all yours," she replied, offering him another smile.

Never in a million years did Tamora ever once think that she'd be married to someone like Felix. Actually, she never thought she'd be married at all. Not after Brad. Nevertheless, she was glad that she'd been proven wrong, for she honestly couldn't picture herself with anyone else. This little fixer was absolutely _perfect_ for her in every single way.

And really, she could have cared less about their alarming differences, because, if anything, that only made their marriage all the more unique.

With that established, she took to her feet and stood up again, reaching her full height. "Did you have anything in mind, Fix-It?"

"Well, actually, Tammy, I don't have much of anything planned for tonight..." He told her apologetically, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture of uneasiness. "Though I _do_ know that Q*Bert was planning to take a bunch of the others to Tapper's tonight. We could tag along, or stay behind." He shrugged, and looked up to her again, "Or, if you had something else in mind, that's alright too."

Tamora considered the options that Felix provided. Both had their perks, she supposed. Getting a nice, cold root beer after a long day sounded awfully tempting, but she knew she'd see some of her soldiers there. Not that that was necessarily a problem, per se, but spending time with her husband was something she enjoyed doing _without_ the presence of the men she commanded.

Besides, she couldn't threaten them as much as she normally could during arcade hours should they jab at her for being ooey-gooey with Felix (something she couldn't help whenever the small hero was around her).

In the end, she decided to mix both plans. "How about we head to Tapper's, stay and schmooze for a bit, and then head back to your place?" That way, they'd be able to have a drink and enjoy the company of friends before they focused exclusively on each other. "Does that sound okay?"

"Sure does." Felix replied with a grin, straightening up excitedly at the prospect of now having something planned.

Though he only went to Tapper's on the odd occasion, he figured that a get-together thrown together by Q*Bert and some of the other characters that had taken residence in their game was reason enough; and with Tammy there, it was all the more special. He swore that woman could make watching grass grow interesting.

With their plans now established, the two made their way through the tunnel leading out of Hero's Duty and straight through Game Central Station to get to Tapper's.


	2. Party Time

Felix stuck close by Tamora as they entered _Tapper's_, so as not to get separated in the crowd. Though as they traversed through the sea of characters, he couldn't help but spot a relatively large figure sitting some ways away at the bar.

"Oh, there's Ralph!" Felix exclaimed, hopping up somewhat and pointing towards the large wrecker, who was sitting with Q*Bert, Coily and some of the other Nicelanders. "Shall we say hello, m'lady?" He asked her with a smile.

Tamora wasn't too surprised to see Ralph at _Tapper's_, just because the wrecker frequented the place more than any of them combined. He and Tapper himself were chums, it seemed, and the quaint mustachioed bartender always made sure to take good care of the big guy, whether that entailed giving him a few extra root beers, or just providing an ear to listen. That might have been due in part to the fact that the both of them had been around for so long – and before the wrecker had been widely accepted amongst his own game, the friendly bartender was someone with whom he could relate.

"It'd be rude if we didn't," she replied, heading over to the table Ralph and the others occupied. The tall blonde greeted the hulking man with a typical punch to the shoulder (which actually hurt more than it should have, though his thick muscles usually cushioned the otherwise painful blow). "Good to see you, Wreck-It."

Behind her, Felix gave Ralph an amused wave as he hopped up onto his own seat next to him, making sure that there was one available beside him for his lovely lady.

Ralph nearly snorted into his pint due to the fact that he hadn't seen Calhoun approaching him. When he recovered (and wiped his face free of carbonated fizz), he turned and regarded her with an amused look. "Hey, Sarge. I almost got root beer up my nose because of you," he laughed, lifting up his glass. His friendly gaze then transferred to Felix. "Glad you guys decided to stop by. Princess pipsqueak should be here soon, too. After her race."

Beside Ralph, Q*Bert bounced and offered his own greeting to the newly arrived pair. " &? #!"

Upon seeing Q*Bert, Felix's eyes lit up with excitement. "Why, hi there, Q*Bert!" He greeted enthusiastically. "How are y- oh, wait… &^%!?~" He cleared his throat and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I have an awful accent."

Tamora slid into the chair beside Felix and set her duffel bag at her feet. She then proceeded to fold her long, lean, impressively toned arms along the bar top as she got comfortable. The happy couple hadn't been seated for more than fifteen seconds when Tapper slid them both fresh mugs of the finest root beer in the arcade.

"On the house," he told them, polishing off a glass.

"Thank you, Tapper." Felix nodded towards the bartender, and Tamora did the same. She took a small sip of the cold, refreshing beverage before she let her eyes wander. _Tapper's_ was pretty busy for a Wednesday night, which must have been good for business. Tamora noticed Sonic and Tails sitting towards the back, talking with the Mario brothers. The speedy hedgehog had had perhaps _too_ much to drink, because he was presently betting Luigi a chaos emerald that he could drink three mugs of root beer in under ten seconds.

Turning back to the members of her own party, the soldier looked at Ralph, who was now chatting with some of the Nicelanders. It was amazing how far they'd come when it came to the bad guy. They didn't necessarily offer him as much love or praise as they awarded Felix on a daily basis, but they gave Ralph enough positivity and friendliness to show the wrecker that they now considered him an acceptable part of their community.

It was a little sad that it had taken a calamity to bring them all closer together, but Tamora wouldn't deny that their little group of friends was a nice way to unwind after a rough day.

"_Geronimo!_~" A familiar voice suddenly rang out, breaking everyone out of their thoughts as the newfound ruler of _Sugar Rush_ landed with a _thud_ in Ralph's lap, taking the larger man off guard for a moment. She looked up at him with wide, excited eyes and a mischievous grin. "Miss me, fatso?" She asked him, innocently.

"Miss _you_?" Ralph asked, scrunching up his nose and sticking out his tongue, as though he were repulsed by the very idea. "No way. I was enjoying the peace and quiet without her royal talks-too-much around." The wrecker's sour expression melted away into a genuine gap-toothed smile as he reached down to pluck Vanellope up from his lap by the back of her hoodie.

He then set her on his shoulder, which was where she usually sat. Besides, it was practically the most comfortable seat in the house. "We'll take another root beer, Tapper. In a _kid's cup_," he teased.

"A _kids_ cup!?" Vanellope exclaimed from her new perch atop Ralph's shoulder, raising her arms in incredulity as she watched Tapper go off to fulfil their request. "Why I oughta-!" The little racer placed both of her small hands on the side of Ralph's head in a playful attempt to throttle him.

Felix couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head a little at the display, shooting Tamora an amused look, which she returned with one of her own. Vanellope and Ralph's friendship had only grown since the Sugar Rush incident, and he was more than happy for that. She was the friend the big guy needed. The Nicelanders may have been treating him with respect now, but his friendship with Vanellope was genuine, and he'd needed that more than anything else.

In fact, he'd do anything and everything for the little racer; and Tamora felt sorry for whoever had the guts to threaten Vanellope. They sure as heck would be in for a rude awakening that may have involved a powerful pair of crushing fists. Of course, they'd also have to answer to her gun, and even though he was nowhere near the violent type, they would probably have to get through Felix as well.

The four of them were like a little family. A _strange_ little family, but a family nonetheless.

"Did you smoke 'em at the races tonight, Schweetz?" Tamora asked, reaching out beneath the table to casually rest her hand on Felix's thigh, which caused his face to almost instantly light up with a bashful blush. He was so quick to embarrass, that one. Between the two of them she was definitely the more willing to initiate contact in public, if only because she enjoyed the fixer's company and didn't care _who_ was around to see her express said enjoyment. But even so, his hand still travelled under the table to curl with hers.

"You bet I did!" The racer exclaimed, forgetting her attempt to throttle her friend. "Man, you should've seen it! Taffyta and Rancis were closing in on me, but at the last second I _swerved_ outta the way of a candy cane blockade, and send both of 'em sailing straight into it!" She laughed loudly, and punctuated the statement with a slap to her knee. "Taffyta's face was priceless." She grinned.

"That's what I like to hear," she said, commenting on Vanellope's narration. "No mercy for those cotton-candied pansies." Though her words were somewhat harsh, her actions under the table starkly contrasted them. Her fingers, which were longer and more slender than Felix's, curled around the shorter and stubbier digits, holding them gently in her grasp.

"They should'a known better than to think they had a chance against you," Ralph commented, lifting up one of his massive hands for a fist-bump. "Top shelf."

"Top shelf!" The little racer exclaimed and reached over to bring her comparatively miniscule hand against Ralph's colossal one in a fist-bump, "And you bet!" she directed back towards Tamora with an excited grin. "They never saw it coming." She snickered a little.

It was then that some more familiar faces arrived, belonging to the members of Bad-Anon. Zangief led the line of bad guys over to sit with the group. The Nicelanders seemed a bit uncomfortable when Bowser decided to sit beside them, but that was expected. Just because they were okay with Ralph didn't mean they were ready to accept every single villain out there.

Felix also found himself tensing slightly at the arrival of the bad-guys, though smiled politely and tried not to show his uneasiness as they all made themselves comfortable at the table. He knew better than many people how misjudged the villains in the arcade could be. A fact for which he still found himself sometimes apologizing to Ralph for. The least he could do was give them the proper respect they deserved.

Having been trained to detect uneasiness without a physical indicator, Tamora's eyes shifted to Felix. She already knew that the presence of the larger, menacing bad guys must have made the little fixer feel awkward. Nonetheless, her husband was known for being too "nice" for his own good, and she knew that he'd never treat them badly on purpose. Her hand squeezed his reassuringly before she separated their fingers, so as to rest her arms back on the bar.

Vanellope unconsciously shifted closer to the wrecker from her seat atop his shoulder. After all, some of those guys were _big_; and the tiny racer bet that some of them might even have been able to give even Ralph a run for his money in terms of brute strength… then again, maybe not.

"Hey, Wrecker!" Bowser greeted him, clapping his large clawed hand forcefully against Ralph's back – an action that caused Vanellope to have to balance herself by hugging onto Ralph's head. Which she immediately released and stuck her tongue out at. "You missed the last meeting!" He brought his hand back down to rest on the table. "You're not too busy for us now, are ya?" He questioned, though it was in a joking matter.

As discreetly as he could without making it obvious that he was comforting Vanellope, Ralph reached up and gently rested one of his huge, thick fingers on her knee. To anyone else it looked like he was just holding her in place, but the truth of the matter was that he was soothing her. For all of her snippiness and insults, she was _still_ just a little girl.

"Too busy? No way," he replied, finishing off what remained of his root beer. "I've just been busier, I guess. With, uh...stuff." Said "stuff" involved visiting Sugar Rush and enjoying his newly-built home in Niceland, but that was his business.

"Stuff, huh?" The Koopa King repeated with a chuckle. He hadn't been oblivious to what had happened all that time ago in Sugar Rush. Practically the whole arcade now knew about what had transpired that day. Or basic tidbits of what had happened anyway; and that Ralph had been the main factor in everything being resolved. It was still strange to Bowser personally, that a villain wouldn't be proud of what they did in their own games, despite the fact that they were 'bad guys' – though he knew many villains that preferred the term 'antagonist' – with a shrug of his large shoulders, he disregarded it. Even _he_ knew that Ralph had been pretty upset with the way he was being treated, and he would have been lying if he said he didn't think that what Ralph had done was pretty awesome. "Hey, Tapper!" He spoke suddenly, and slammed the table to get the bartender's attention. "Could we get a couple more drinks around here?"

"Yeah, in a _real_ glass!" Vanellope finally spoke up.

Meanwhile, another member of Bad-Anon squeezed himself beside Tamora, on the opposite side of Felix. Zangief, the hulking Russian wrestler, clad in nothing more than his signature wrestling trunks, spoke: "So, when we have arm wrestling competition again, ah? You beat Zangief last time, Sarge," the large man said, grinning.

Calhoun smirked confidently. "And I'll gladly take you down again, Muscles," she proposed, causing the fighter to laugh heartily.

"A challenge!" he boomed, slapping the table.

Felix watched the conversation play out between the wrestler and sergeant, his own hands clasping each other on top of the table. Tamora had actually _won_ against that guy? He couldn't help the look of surprise from crossing his face at that bit of information. He was absolutely massive! Though, he knew Tamora was much stronger than she looked. She was the only one he knew that could floor Ralph with a single punch, after all.

Still, the idea of an arm wrestling match, especially amongst this crowd did seem a tad… _violent_.

"Be careful, Tammy." The fixer spoke.

Tamora had never been one to turn down a challenge. She was fiercely competitive as it was, and she welcomed whatever obstacle came her way. Thus, she scooted her seat back a little and readied her right arm; her dog tags caught the light, causing the silver to glint. Zangief mimicked the pose and clasped his huge hand around Tamora's, holding it.

"Felix is lucky man," he said in a low, husky voice as he squeezed her hand in preparation of their match.

It was the poorest attempt at flirting the blonde had ever seen. Tamora said nothing and simply began counting. "On three. One…two…_three!_"

And just like that, the two began putting their strength to the test. Neither of them made any sounds, save for a few grunts that Zangief released, but they still caught the attention of nearby characters. It wasn't long at all before quite a few pairs of eyes were looking in. Ralph was among the spectators. "Sweet Mother Hubbard!" he exclaimed, unable to believe that the sarge was actually keeping up with Zangief's unmatched strength. This definitely wasn't something you saw every day.

"Hah! C'mon, Zangief. Show her who's boss!" Bowser chortled, getting great amusement from the look of strain that was appearing on his friends face. He had heard about Sergeant Calhoun from the various stories that had gone around the arcade after the Sugar Rush incident. And in every single one she was portrayed as a raging badass. He was starting to believe that it was actually true, now that he saw her in action. "You gonna let her beat ya?" He taunted the wrestler, and couldn't help but notice the crowd of other patrons the match was drawing in. He was loving this.

Felix meanwhile was trying to keep himself from sinking under the table. He was far too close to the action for his own liking, though he did like the fact that he was close by, just in the event that anything were to go wrong. He was never much into the whole 'conflict' thing. Though his wife certainly was, and good golly, she was good at it too. "_Oh my land._" He stuttered in surprise, his eyes widening in shock at how well she was fairing against the muscle-bound wrestler. At the sight, he found himself inwardly thanking his luck that he was rarely the focus of her ferocity.

Zangief would never admit it to his fellow antagonists, but he was actually putting some serious effort into winning the arm-wrestling competition. Sergeant Calhoun was deceptively strong, and he didn't know whether that was alarming or attractive. Probably both. She didn't exactly look like a delicate flower, but she also didn't look like she could beat him in a contest of strength, which was exactly what she was doing at the moment. In one final stretch of stored power, he put everything into his right hand and gave it his all.

Tamora actually struggled for a second. Her arm sunk dangerously close to the table, but she absolutely refused to give in. She pushed back, keeping her eyes on his. She fought foes that were bigger and uglier than Zangief on a daily basis. She could handle whatever the wrestler threw at her. That much she knew.

The voices of the other paying customers around them grew louder in a series of chants as they coaxed whomever they wanted to win. Most were cheering for Calhoun, but since Zangief was a favored individual amongst the bad guys - who also had bad, loud voices - his name could still be heard throughout Tapper's. Ralph, who was a friend of both, refrained from using either name. He simply cheered in a general sort of way that could have been applied to either side.

Vanellope was really getting into it. The little racer jumped into a standing position on Ralph's shoulders and hooted and hollered with delight. Whoever won, it didn't really matter. But it sure was exciting!

Bowser on the other hand was cheering exclusively for his fellow villain, at some point standing from his seat in the excitement and forcing a few of the Nicelanders that were sitting beside him to huddle closely beside each other in order to avoid his spiky shell. Gene in particular looked very annoyed at this, though didn't make a move to voice his frustration and simply crossed his arms in a huff.

Calhoun's arm dipped dangerously low to the table, and Felix's eyes widened in suspense as it just hovered there momentarily. She fought to keep her arm from touching the table, and just when it seemed that Zangief had gained the upper-hand, Tamora's arm thrust forward and slammed the larger wrestler's down onto it.

She pulled back and cracked her knuckles as though the previous task had been nothing.

The crowd that had gathered, and that had been getting into the action all erupted into their various cheers or shouts of disbelief the moment it ended.

"_Mama-mia!_" An unseen voice shouted from somewhere.

"Hah! You did it, Tammy!" Felix hopped up on his seat and cheered excitedly, a look of adoration in his eyes. "I knew you could do it!"

Tamora looked at Felix and smiled at the genuine flush of excitement on his face. He was her biggest fan and supporter, and it made her feel good to have him on her side. "All in a day's work, Fix-It," she said, pulling back to take a swig of her root beer.

"Yeah! Way to go, Sarge!" Vanellope cheered, pumping a victorious fist up into the air, and breaking out into laughter.

Zangief chuckled. "One day Zangief will win."

Tamora smirked. "Don't bet on it. And speaking of betting…" She turned to their spectators. "Alright. For everyone who betted against me, cough it up."

A few of the observing characters handed over their own individual methods of payment, such as gold coins, rings, and even fruit to their betting partners, who happily collected their winnings.

"That's some arm you got there, Sarge," Ralph commented, nodding at the indicated limb.

Tamora sipped some of her root beer. "It takes a lot more than just a tough attitude and strict policy to keep my soldiers in line, Wreck-It."

"I think you deserve a toast! That was amazing." Felix spoke to Tamora happily, raising his mug up a little.

"Yeah. If you ever get bored of shooting those bug-dealies, I bet you'd make a great addition to the Koopa Troop." Bowser chortled, clinking his comparatively larger mug against Felix's.

Tamora didn't seem to mind that she was the current source of attention. It wasn't in her programming to be shy or modest, so she accepted the toast like a champ and even polished off the remnants of her root beer to it. Upon hearing Bowser's statement, she couldn't help but smirk at the overgrown turtle.

"That's awfully tempting, Spikes, but I've got obligations. Someone's gotta bark orders at my platoon," she replied, shrugging. Besides, she doubted she'd do well fighting alongside the Koopa Troop. The sound of clunking shells would have her going mad before the end of the first week. Not to mention kidnapping princesses wasn't Tamora's style.

"Fair enough." Bowser shrugged. In all honesty, he hadn't actually been expecting her to take him up on his offer, though it was worth a shot. She definitely would have been a welcome addition; if not a little out of place. "Can't say I blame you. I wouldn't wanna work with 'em either. Don't know how many times I've told those green-shelled Goomba-brains to stay away from cliff edges…" He grumbled to himself, hoisting his mug up to his mouth again to drink what was left of it.

Felix shifted a little awkwardly at the Koopa King's grumbling, and looked back and forth between him and Tamora, folding his hands in his lap politely and twiddling his thumbs as he waited for someone to say something. He didn't have to wait long for someone else to speak, as he soon felt Tamora's breath on his ear, low and smoky.

"_Ready to get out of here, soldier?_"

That sent a shiver up his spine, and he instantly found himself nodding at her question. "Yes ma'am!" He answered eagerly, and moved to slip off of his seat. Though not before turning to the party still at the table and waving goodbye to everyone there. "Bye everyone, tonight's been great! And thanks, Q*bert, for setting this up." He smiled at them all, and nodded towards Q*bert.

"See ya." Bowser grunted, still snout-deep in his own mug.

"Bye!" Vanellope waved back just as Tapper returned and handed her a 'real' mug of root beer (that was _much _too large for her, and forced her to hug onto it with both hands). With a mischievous snicker, she reached down into the mug, pulled out an ice cube, and made the move to drop it down the back of Ralph's shirt.

Vanellope's threat coaxed Ralph to shudder, even though a single ice cube hadn't met with his back; it was the thought of having something cold slip down his shirt that gave him goosebumps. "Don't you even _think_ about it," he warned, narrowing his eyes. It was about to get real in _Tapper's_. Luckily, Felix and Calhoun were leaving, so Princess Pain-in-the-Butt was spared from the wrecker's precautionary movements. "Later, you two."

Tamora stood from her seat as well and reached down to grab her duffel bag. After slinging it back over her shoulder, she glanced back towards Felix and gave a nod of her head towards the entryway of Tapper's, a signal for him to follow, before she began heading out, knowing that he wouldn't be far behind.

He wasn't. Sprinting up beside her, he craned his neck upwards to look at her with a proud, adoring grin. He was absolutely beaming, and for one of the many times since he'd gotten married to her, he felt like he was the luckiest guy in the arcade.

Reaching up to take her hand in his own, the two exited _Tapper's_ and made their way towards _Fix-It Felix Jr._

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**A/N: The title will begin to come into play next chapter :)  
Oh wait, smiley face, what? That's bad.**


	3. Before the Storm

**A/N: Hey everyone! I decided to post this up a little early, just because you're all so great~ ****Thanks so much for your reviews. I love reading them :)**

**And thanks to my good friend fix-it-feesh, whom again I have to plug for co-writing this story with me. _Amaaazing_ person, she is! Check out her tumblr! Mine's Hippo-Scuba, if you were interested.**

**And thanks so much for your reviews. I love reading them :)**

* * *

The cart-ride through the tunnel wasn't as speedy as the bullet-train leading into _Hero's Duty_, but Tamora didn't mind. She wasn't in a rush, and the ride was quiet, peaceful, and gave the married couple a moment to speak.

"It's nice to see Wreck-It mingling with the others," the sergeant stated, glancing down at her husband. "I didn't know much about him before Sugar Rush, but he seems to be fitting in now."

"Oh, yes, he's been fitting in fine." Felix nodded, and leaned back slightly to look at her. "Much better now. Though him and Gene sometimes have a disagreement every once in a while." He thought back with a smirk. It was never about anything too serious. He figured their personalities just clashed a little. "I think Vanellope's really helping him though. He seems much happier now."

"I'm sure that's more on Gene's end," she commented, thinking of the huffy little Nicelander that always had a complaint tucked somewhere up his sleeve. But that wasn't the issue at hand, nor was it really worth talking about. "Seems to me like he needed Schweetz all along. Or at least someone who was more like him than he realized."

Somehow, Tamora felt that the friendship between Ralph and Vanellope wouldn't have been the same if the two didn't share similar problems, such as being regarded negatively and being left out. She knew that neither would admit it, but in their shared ostracism they had managed to find something they both could cling to.

It was pretty poetic and sappy - two things that made Tamora want to shoot her gun. Not that she did. It was just in her programming.

And Felix knew that Ralph was a great guy. He'd always been, and the fixer had often felt guilty of the way he had been treated over the last 30 years. He'd berated himself many times over not noticing that Ralph hadn't been being included in the many events that the Nicelanders would throw, or that on the occasions that he _had _tried to interact with them, he had been treated with less-than open arms. It wasn't fair at all, and he'd tried to make it up to him on numerous occasions. Though Ralph didn't seem all too concerned about that. He was simply content to move on and be happy that things were different now. And now that he had gotten to know the wrecker relatively well, he could honestly say that he was one of the most genuine people he knew.

Eventually, the tram pulled into Niceland and came to a stop. Felix wasted no time in hopping out of his seat, and extending his hand out for Tamora to take; which she did – simply because she appreciated his gentlemanly mannerisms. She stood up with a smile, the top of her head nearly touching the florescent lights that lit up the platform, but she was used to it. Someone like her wasn't meant to exist in a game like Fix-It Felix Jr. Not that that stopped her from visiting.

The evening air was as pleasant as always with unseen crickets chirping from the square bushes and trees. It was definitely a change from the barren wasteland in Hero's Duty. It was also a lot safer. The most dangerous thing in Niceland was _maybe_ a stray brick falling on your heard from Ralph's earlier demolition, and even that was rare due to Felix's fixing.

The two made their way over the 8-bit field of grass and towards the tiny village that had been built beside the apartment (Felix had insisted that they have their own home, simply for the sake of privacy); and when they reached the entrance, Felix unlocked the door and pushed it open. He held it for Tamora to enter in, and laughed a little as another thought crossed his mind. "You know, I _really_ don't think we need to have a lock on this door." He told her with a little amusement. It did seem strange to be paranoid in a place called "Niceland", though he couldn't exactly blame her.

"Can't be too careful, Fix-It," Tamora replied, stepping into their shared place. She highly doubted anyone would take over Niceland or cause trouble for those who inhabited the game, but the same mentality had once been applied to Sugar Rush, and they all knew how _that_ candy-coated nightmare turned out. Thus, it was best to always be cautious.

Plus, it was pretty much written into her code to be overly cautious, and the fixer wasn't about to argue with that. Saying nothing more about it, he closed the door after them, quite content to just unwind further after a long day.

Now that she and Felix were away from everyone and in the comfort of their own home, she finally felt as though she could relax without having to keep up appearances. So the tall soldier set her bag down on a chair and stretched out her arms and shoulders. With hopes to get comfortable, she sat down on the floor and went about removing her boots. Loosening the laces took a minute by itself, since they were tightly fastened with no intentions on coming undone.

Felix couldn't help but watch her with a grin. She was always so concentrated in everything she did. Even when it came to simply untying her boots. It was a trait he found quite endearing, though that was just one of many. As she was untying them however, he couldn't help but notice the redness on her hand caused by her and Zangief's arm-wrestling match, and his brows knit together in concern. Though before he could voice anything on the matter, she had stood up, set the boots aside and had begun making her way into the other room to get a drink.

"Um, Tammy?" He called, listening to her in the other room. He could hear her rummaging through the kitchen; and while he knew she probably cared next to nothing about her arm, it still hadn't looked very comfortable.

All at once though, his mind seemed to go blank. It was like time had screeched to a halt, and the surroundings had froze. He couldn't hear Tamora in the other room, or the faint chirping of the crickets outside the house, or even get himself to move. And a quick surge of panic shot through him at the sensation, before it suddenly ended as quick as it had come, and everything resumed again.

_That was strange…_

It couldn't have lasted more than a moment, but in all his years, he couldn't recall ever feeling something like that before; and he would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't unnerved by it. Though he stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat in an attempt to collect himself and remember exactly what it was he was talking about.

"Uh, your arm!" His voice rose a little more than he'd intended it too, "Do you need me to take a look at your arm?" He called into the other room.

Having poured some lemonade into a glass, Tamora sipped thirstily and only stopped when she heard Felix call out her name. There was a delay where nothing was said, but then he eventually continued asking if she needed him to look at her arm. So, he'd seen. Tamora glanced down at her reddened hand and then flexed it a bit. It was sore, sure, but she'd experienced much worse - as in having the entire limb bitten off by a Cy-Bug, but that was the fault of an inexperienced rookie she'd been forced to protect once upon a time.

Well, she'd taken rougher hits and been left with bigger scars. She'd be fine.

"Negatory," she called back. "I'll be fine." A second or two passed and a smirk gradually made its way onto her coral lips. "But I wouldn't mind your company." And that, in 'Tamora talk', roughly translated into: '_Get your sweet self in here before I come get you myself._'

Asking for help was not one of Tamora's strong suits, but that was just who she was; and while he didn't particularily _like_ the thought of her being in discomfort, he was well aware of the fact that she could handle it. Perhaps maybe even _preferred _to handle it, as opposed to taking the 'easy way out', if he were to heal her all the time.

At her next comment however, a smile once again came to his face. Now _that_ was a request he could definitely fulfill. "I can do that." He said with a laugh, closing the space between himself and the kitchen. He tried to push back any negative thoughts he might have had about that strange occurrence from a moment before, and quickly entered the kitchen to see Tamora holding a glass of lemonade. With a grin, he came to a stop in front of her and held his hands behind his back. "In all honesty, I think I'm more worried for that other guy anyways." He joked, thinking back to how Tamora had managed to slam Zangief's arm down onto that table.

And there he was. Her little man. Tamora smiled as Felix made his presence known in the kitchen. He was no taller than her thigh (and even _that_ was pushing it), but she would have literally done everything and anything for the little fixer. Her heart belonged to him - every jagged, broken, and sandpapered piece of it.

"I'll give him credit," she stated, setting her glass of lemonade down and folding her arms across her chest. "He's got a good arm. If only he'd tone down on the ego, he _might_ have had what it takes to beat me."

But that was saying a lot.

Though they had a couch, some chairs, _and_ a bed, she chose to lower herself onto the kitchen floor. She sat with her back pressed against the counter and one knee bent near her chest. "But enough about that," she continued, gesturing Felix over with a tilt of her head; the gesture caused an array of golden bangs to mask one of her blue eyes, creating an almost sultry look. "I'm more interested in what I have right here in front of me."

Felix was almost transfixed at the sight. He still had trouble believing that little old 8-bit him had managed to land a girl as great as her.

"Well I can help with that too." He said somewhat bashfully, as he walked forward and closed the distance between them. He came to sit next to her, though left little space between them as he brought an arm around behind her back and just leaned against her. He sat there and simply relaxed, before a strange 'buzzing' sensation filled his head. Though it only lasted for a brief instance, before he shook his head to rid himself of the sensation and leaned against her again.

Spending time with Felix was definitely Tamora's preferred method of unwinding. He was sweet, considerate, and sympathetic; it softened her up and made her realize just how stupid in love she was with him. She may have been tough as nails on the battlefield, as was expected, but in their quaint little home in quaint little Niceland…she couldn't help but surrender to happiness in the form of _softer_ affections.

This included wrapping her arm around him in return and leaning over to press a kiss on top of his head. Well, through his hat but it was the same principle. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss.

She sat with him for a few minutes of contemplative silence, simply savoring his company before she firmly decided that he wasn't close enough. Well, she knew how to fix that (and she wasn't even a fixer). A coy smirk was the only indicator of her oncoming action before she reached over and literally scooped Felix into her arms, causing him to yelp in shock. She settled him on her lap, with his back to her chest, and wrapped both of her arms around his middle, as though he were something that a child cuddled when going to sleep.

Tiny, feathering kisses were laid on the back of his neck, and after he'd gotten over his initial shock, he broke out into a series of pleasured giggles at the sensation and tilted the brim up his cap up slightly with his thumb to get a better look at her – and she received a better look at him.

Every single high definition pixel adorning her face (and the rest of her) was positively perfect. She looked so out of place amongst the comparatively blocky interior of the rest of the house and game, he sometimes couldn't believe she chose to stick around.

And him. His eyes were so incredibly blue and bright with life that she couldn't help but feel a sense of rejuvenation simply by gazing into them. She adored his boyish face, his round nose, his brilliant smile.

It had taken her two tries to find the love of her life, and she couldn't have been happier with the results.

The tiny fixer suddenly twisted in his position to wrap his own arms around her neck, and pulled her head down towards his to meet in the middle for a kiss – a kiss that she _gladly _returned. It was a somewhat bold-ish move, though when they were alone, he tended to drop a couple of his reservations –she deserved it.

Her own arms repositioned themselves around his little body, holding him as their mouths met in perfect unison. She didn't believe in fate or fairytales or even soul-mates, but she _did_ believe in whatever she and Felix had managed to create together.

A few seconds passed before she pulled away, though not after planting two more kisses against each of his honeyglows. Her expression was warm as she looked at him. "You and your googoo eyes," she teased, tugging the brim of his cap down, like she always did, to conceal his gaze.

He laughed again and reached up to reposition his cap, his face melting into an adoring smile as he looked up at her again.

"Can't compare to yours, sweetpea." He answered back wrapping his arm back around her neck and pulling himself up to snuggle against her. He loved her playful side, and he did not for one second take for granted the fact that he was one of the rare few that got to see it.

_Sweetpea_.

It was such a simple term of endearment - one that should have had Tamora scrunching up her freckled nose in distaste, but it instead had the complete opposite effect. She'd never outwardly admit to it, but Felix gave her butterflies. It was embarrassing as all get out, and it often made her feel atrociously vulnerable, but she supposed it was the _only_ 'bug' she'd accept.

She returned his embrace and cradled him against her, hugging him securely, _protectively_.

Though it was at that moment that the buzzing sensation from before invaded Felix's mind, making him tense up in her arms and squeeze her just a little bit tighter. But the foreign feeling lasted only a moment, before it left him blinking back in confusion and relaxing back into Tamora's hold.

Tamora had felt it, and her grip loosened before she pulled back a little to glance down at him. Maybe she squeezed him a bit _too_ tightly? He didn't seem uncomfortable, so she assumed it was nothing more than a shift in position. Thus, she resumed holding him, the sound of muffled voices from outside their home breaking her from her thoughts.

It seemed as though the Nicelanders had returned from their evening out; she knew their animated chatter anywhere. Amongst the group she could also hear Ralph, and even Vanellope, as they made their way back from the tram.

"Looks like the party's over," she observed, referring to the get-together at Tapper's.

Having fully recovered from the minor 'episode', he craned his neck around to meet her line of vision. "Guess so," he replied through his grin, turning himself around in her arms so that he was now face-to-face with her again. "Ya know… Maybe you should try arm-wrestling Ralph next." He joked.

Tamora shifted her arms when Felix moved within her embrace again; the long limbs wrapped around him from underneath, supporting the little hero as he looked at her and spoke. From their current proximity it was incredibly easy to kiss him again, and she just might have, but his comment that had the soldier planning yet another course of attack.

He _really_ needed to watch what he said around her, just because she wasn't a typical female.

"I'm not too sure Wreck-It's hand would fit in mine," she said, stating a true fact. Ralph's hands were utterly _massive_. He could have literally wrapped his entire hand around her waist. "Besides, I already have my eye on my next opponent." Her playful smirk returned, along with a mischievous gleam to her eye. Something was about to happen. Felix was no longer safe.

As soon as she got that look in her eye, he knew he was in trouble. Felix's eyes widened in momentary apprehension, as she seemed to close in on him like a lioness stalking its prey.

"What do you say, Fix-It?" she asked in a low voice, moving in closer. "You wanna wrestle?" Nevermind the "arm" part.

He raised his hands out towards her in a preemptive gesture of surrender. He wouldn't have even come close to being able to beat Zangief, let alone _her! _He was just about to tell her how utterly pointless it would have been, when, in one quick movement, she had grabbed him in a hold and laid down on her side so that he was trapped against her. But that wasn't all. _Oh no_. Holding onto him like this was far too easy a punishment. Therefore, her long, lithe fingers positioned themselves against his sides - his incredibly _ticklish_ sides - before they scattered about like manic spiders, tickling him mercilessly.

"Oh, _no!_" He shouted with laughter, trying desperately to twist out of her hold. It was no use though. Her determined fingers trailed up and down his sides with no signs of stopping. "_Tammy, stop!_" He laughed and kicked, and could have sworn that the others would have been able to hear it. But she didn't listen, leaving him to desperately attempt to wriggle out of her grasp. "_W-we can talk this out!_" He pleaded with her through his laughter, trying now to cling onto her arms to stop the tickling. Or slow it down, at least.

Tickling him shouldn't have brought on a sadistic feeling of pleasure over her. She assumed she only felt that way because of how strongly he reacted to it. Her husband was the most ticklish person she knew, aside from Vanellope - but at least the racer had the advantage of glitching away when she'd had enough. Felix wasn't so lucky. Sometimes, the mere _thought_ of being tickled was enough to award him a case of the giggles. Tamora found it endearing, as well as an opportunity she just couldn't pass up.

He was laughing, begging, and squirming like a worm….but she didn't stop. Not yet. Her fingertips were like tap-dancing crabs upon his sides, skittering beneath his ribs and in between his muscles. "There's nothing to talk about," she said, speaking in the breaks of his squeaky laughter. "Negotiation is pointless when you've got your target cornered."

_… Once she had her target cornered?_ Oh, he was definitely in trouble.

He pushed his hands out towards her in a last-ditch attempt to try and get her to cease in her assault; but it nearly impossible to get her to budge! That girl was _strong!_ Plus being tickled was one of his greatest weaknesses, next to Mary's homemade pies, and Tamora had been quick to discover that fact and close in on it.

Finally, after she felt as though he'd suffered enough, she ceased and relieved him of the tickle torture. Of course, that didn't necessarily free him from her hold, which still had him pinned against the kitchen floor. Much to his utter relief. The ability to breathe normally once more was definitely a welcome one. When it was obvious the attack was over, Felix sighed in relief and allowed himself to rest completely against the ground for a moment, staring up at her again and allowing his giggles to gradually subside as he was given some time to compose himself.

But suddenly, both of her hands had trapped either side of his face, holding it in place as she pressed a firm, dominating kiss against his lips – and instantly his laughter faded to pleasure once again, and his own hands came up to frame hers. Though much more gently.

It was then that a somewhat familiar sensation returned, though this one was far quicker and more concentrated than the last few had been. It was a sudden twang of _pain_ in his head that left just as quickly as it had come, but left him with a strange static in his ear. It wasn't particularly intense, though the suddenness of it was enough to startle him out of the kiss and elicit a sudden "_Ow!_" from him as he reached back to rub the side of his head.

At the sound of the small noise, Tamora's eyes opened and she looked down at him, studying his face and actions. Something was wrong. He was hurt.

Instantly, the focused soldier pulled back and sat up. Her hands helped him into a sitting position, while her eyes continued to search every inch of him. She feared that he'd somehow injured himself during their horseplay, but he didn't seem to have any visible markings or bruises. If anything, the source of his pain was coming from his head, or so his body language indicated.

"Everything alright?" she asked, staring at the spot that he was rubbing. He wasn't bleeding or anything - at least not that she could see - but his general discomfort was enough of a reason to rouse her concern.

As soon as he'd said something, he'd instantly regretted it. Not only did the little outburst interrupt their moment, but now he'd gotten Tamora all concerned; and as soon as she made the move to sit back up, he looked up to her apologetically and clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Yes, I'm fine!" He nodded, reaching out and putting a hand over hers in an attempt to reassure her. "Sorry about that. I'm not hurt or anything. I just got kinda startled." He laughed a little. "Oh, but not by you." He clarified. It did sound kind of silly, now that he was saying it out loud. Though he was still debating with himself whether or not it was wise to let Tamora know about that strange feeling. It's not like it was particularly bothersome, and he figured whatever it was, it would probably just go away on its own in due time anyways.

… _But,_ it probably was a better idea to let her know. She tended not to like being left in the dark about things._ Especially_ when it came to the safety of others. That, and Tamora was exceptionally good at being able to detect falsehood in someone's gaze, since it had been programmed into her. So as Felix reassured her that everything was okay, and that he'd merely been startled, she wasn't buying any of it. Not a single word. He was far too antsy and set on pushing her mind away from whatever it was that had happened to him, which automatically let her know that he was leaving something out.

And her assumption was soon confirmed.

"Actually… to be honest," he began, bringing his hands back together and twiddling his thumbs nervously in front of him. "I've been feeling a _little_ under the weather since we got back from the party." He said, looking up to her with a little apprehension.

He didn't want to get her worried over nothing, but she'd wished he'd told him that sooner. That was her husband for you: He ignored his own condition most of the time if it meant keeping himself out of the spotlight. She knew that he didn't like to worry anyone, but his selflessness came with a drawback.

It just made her worry even _more_.

"What exactly have you been feeling?" she asked, her tone adopting a more serious approach. The previous warmth and affection in her expression had been replaced with something stern and determined. One of her hands reached out and removed his cap, so that her fingers could gently stroke the side of his head, where he'd been rubbing a minute or so prior. "Don't leave any details out either. I want you to be straight with me, soldier."

A feeling of guilt hit him as soon as he saw her expression change. It shifted from the playful and affectionate Tamora who had been so carefree not a moment before, to a stern and serious one that was now concerned for his safety. He didn't want her to be worried, and he looked up to her once again with a concerned frown as she removed his cap.

"Aww, sugarpie. Please don't worry about it too much." He said, patting her hand and attempting a reassuring smile. "It's only happened a couple times, and it's never lasted long," He started, though frowned when he realized that his attempts to reassure her may only have been making it worse. He cleared his throat and kept his hold on her hand, "But basically, every so often, I'll feel… fuzzy." He described uncertainly, unsure of really how to really explain it. "But again, it never lasts long, and I'm sure it'll fix itself in no time!"

Fuzzy. He felt…_fuzzy_.

Well, that wasn't much of an explanation at all. It failed to give Tamora the distinct details she'd asked for and only served to rouse further uncertainty. Nevertheless, she took it upon herself to check him out anyway. The next few minutes consisted of her performing basic medical procedures she'd been taught in boot camp, as well as in various other areas of her military career. She was no medic, but she knew how to check someone's vitals.

And while Felix thought that the whole procedure was unnecessary (it wasn't _THAT_ big a deal, after all, he felt _fine_) he knew it was more than understandable for Tamora to be so paranoid. He didn't know _all_ the details concerning Tamora's past, but he did know enough to refrain from saying anything and simply allow her to check him over. If only for her own peace of mind. He knew that her past was probably fuelling some of her paranoia; and he knew that all that business concerning her ex-fiancé was still a prominent factor in many of her decisions. It always would be too. It was programmed into her, after all, which was another reason he hated to see her worried.

The last of the examination process consisted of a very simple task: She reached out and laid her hand across the expanse of his forehead, feeling for any increase in temperature. He felt fine and normal beneath the skin of her palm. Maybe he _was_ just feeling…"fuzzy".

Whatever that meant.

"It doesn't look like anything is wrong, but I'm gonna keep an eye on you," she told him, sitting back on her knees. He smiled up at her

That's how it could be for some serious problems; they would start out as nothing - a mere discomfort - and then gradually ascend into a catastrophic calamity that jeopardized a soldier's life.

"If you start feeling any worse, you let me know. That's an order." She **_WOULD NOT_** lose Felix. That was out of the question. She'd protect him at all costs.

"Yes, ma'am." He gave her a joking salute and laughed a little, taking that moment to hop up from his position on the floor and close the space between them once again. He wrapped his arms around her as best he could in a hug, another attempt to reassure her.

She returned the gesture, squeezing him tightly and burying her face into his small shoulder. She wouldn't deny that she was relieved no greater issue was found. He was all that she had, aside from her career, and she knew that, were anything to happen to him, she wouldn't be able to tough it out. Her first loss was bad enough; she didn't want to consider a second one. It would have ripped a hole straight through her, tearing her code apart.

Her actions made a pang of guilt spread in his chest, and his glove hand moved to soothingly rub her back. He was sure, that in any other context, the notion of _him_ scaring _her_ would be absurd; but in this instance, it was true, and he didn't like it. It was no big deal, after all.

The blonde had repositioned in their embrace, so that she was now sitting. Her legs were spread and stationed on either side of Felix, her ankles curled behind his shoes. She held onto him for a second more before she forced herself to stop being so clingy and sappy. There was, however, a smile on her face when she pulled away.

"I'm thinking we could use a rest," she proposed, feeling as if a nap would do them some good. They had plenty of time before the arcade opened, so spending an hour or two sleeping wouldn't put too much of a dent in their shared company. Also, it would hopefully result with Felix waking up and feeling no traces of his former odd sensation.

"I'm with you." He nodded in agreement. "Lead the way, my lady." He smiled and gestured to the door leading out of the room. A little bit of sleep would do the both of them some good.


	4. Game On

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm loving that you're loving the story! And here is is, chapter 4. Enjoy, and feel free to leave a review or ask a question; I love reading 'em :). **

* * *

The two of them retired to their shared bed, comfortably tucked against each other, had Tamora not heard the familiar sound of her communicator being alerted about an hour or so later.

Instantly, she was wide awake. With careful movements, so as not to disturb Felix, she slipped from the bed and hurried to where she'd left her duffel bag. She retrieved her communicator and glanced at the incoming transmission. A soldier appeared on the screen, reporting that suspicious noises were being heard coming from the tower. Naturally, this wasn't something she could ignore.

"Make sure everyone is suited and ready to roll out, Kohut," she told the soldier, speaking in a low voice. "We're going in as soon as I get back."

The transmission ended.

Knowing she needed to leave, Tamora headed back into the bedroom to say goodbye to her husband. She found it was best not to wake him, since he looked so peaceful. Thus, she pressed a soft kiss against his forehead and then headed out. This wasn't the first time she'd left early, and she knew that he would understand.

And with that, she left.

* * *

_Something…wasn't right. _

He'd started feeling it the night before, almost as soon as he returned to Niceland after the get-together at Tapper's. He hadn't made mention of it then, even though Vanellope ragged on him for continuously 'spacing out'. Still, Ralph made a valiant effort to ignore whatever it was that was happening to him. He figured a long nap would eliminate the problem, but he found himself sorely mistaken when he woke up and felt significantly worse than he had prior to resting.

There was a strange buzzing that occupied his head - almost like a constant stream of white noise. No matter how much he massaged his temples or squeezed the bridge of his nose, it wouldn't go away. It was there, lingering, getting progressively louder whenever he applied too much pressure to his skull.

Gosh, who was he kidding? It made him feel sick. _Really_ sick. Like, the kind of sick that happened to kids when they were exposed to germs. But that wasn't possible, since he wasn't comprised of DNA or anything remotely "real". He was a character from a game; code was in his blood, not hemoglobin. This was a _serious_ problem…

With a good half hour before the arcade opened, Ralph decided that he needed to talk to the one person who might have been able to help, or at least who might have known what to do. The giant bad guy stumbled out of his home and headed over to where Felix lived; his footsteps were uncoordinated and dizzy as he walked, causing him to stumble every so often. When he eventually arrived, he was surprised to see that he hadn't been the only one to think of visiting Felix.

Almost all of the Nicelanders were gathered in front of their favorite fixer's door. Thing is, none of them were bobbing about in their usual 8-bit ways. They were sluggish and fatigued, it seemed - just like he was. Amongst their nervous conversation there were occasional coughs and sniffles and just general "sick sounds" that made Ralph realize that they'd all contracted some kind of virus. Of all the rotten luck.

Since no one had taken the initiative - which wasn't surprising, considering how the Nicelanders tended to panic and not use their heads when they were upset - Ralph knocked on the door, causing a sharp silence to descend over the fussing crowd.

Inside the humble home, Felix was awoken by a loud knocking at his door.

It took him a moment to fully comprehend what he was hearing however, and with automatic movements he pushed himself into a sitting position. He blinked back blearily and reached up to rub at his eyes. Something felt… _strange._

The small hero looked around in confusion for a moment, almost as if he were trying to make sense of his surroundings. Tamora was gone. That was the first thing he noticed, and it was then that he could vaguely recall what sounded like an alarm going off while they had both been sleeping. Then Tamora leaving.

Another thought occurred to him at that moment. _What time was it?_ A surge of panic shot through him at the notion of him sleeping in too late. He had missed the arcade opening? It would seem that Tamora had already left for work, so it was quite the possibility. Almost instantly after that thought had entered his mind, did he throw the covers off of himself, grab his hat in one fluid motion and slip off of the bed and onto the floor.

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame him as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he automatically reached out to the bed for balance. "_Oh my…_" He brought a hand to his head to stop it from spinning and tried to shake himself out of it.

_That rest had not helped… _

Hearing the muffled murmurs through his door, he looked up towards it and tried to make that his main area of focus. Though as he walked towards it, he found himself to be slightly off balance. It was if the room was shifting under his feet, not to mention the incessant _buzzing_ in his ear. He could feel the panic from before start to come to the surface again, though tried to push it back as he reached for the doorknob.

Turning it and pulling it back, he was more than a little surprised to see, not just one or two people there, but nearly _everyone_. He blinked back in shock at them for a moment, before forcing himself to be composed.

"Oh, hello everyone!" He greeted them with a grin, opening the door a little wider, not only to speak to them better, but to get a look at the large screen that adorned the front of their world. Much to his relief, the arcade still appeared to be closed. "What brings you all here?"

The very moment the door opened and Felix came into view, the Nicelanders launched into hysterics. A sight which had Felix stepping back in shock and taking on a worried expression. Ralph attempted to speak above their panicking, but his voice was drowned out in the cornucopia of jumbled, incoherent loudness. Mary and Deanna were trying desperately not to cry as they told Felix how terrible they felt, while Gene and Roy were doing the same, only they seemed more miffed than grief-stricken. Overall, it was just a big mess and Ralph had had _enough_.

"Hey," he said, raising his voice a bit. When that didn't work, he furrowed his brows and tried again, louder: "_HEY!_"

That did the trick. The blocky bunch looked at the giant man nervously. They may have grown to like Ralph and all, but when the wrecker resorted to yelling or being _remotely_ aggressive, they couldn't help but cower just a bit. Well, everyone but Gene. He just sort of looked at Ralph with a frown whilst crossing his stubby arms.

"You don't have to shout, Ralph. Felix is _right_ here," he huffed, gesturing a hand at their beloved hero.

Ralph narrowed his eyes at Gene and then looked back at Felix, now that he'd gotten the fixer's attention. "Sorry for bothering you before opening hours…" he started to say, though paused when he coughed into one of his colossal hands, "…but something's wrong with us." As if on cue, the bad guy swayed just a bit before righting himself by holding onto the doorframe. "I'm pretty sure I can speak for everyone when I say that, too." Around him, the Nicelanders murmured and nodded in agreement. They all felt absolutely _awful_.

Those words, combined with Ralph swaying on his feet and catching himself on the doorframe was enough to make Felix's heart plummet... They were _all_ feeling sick? A quick look around the crowd was all it took to confirm that thought. Expressions of worry and general discomfort were quite apparent on each of their faces, and Felix had to once again fight back a feeling of panic. His hand unconsciously moved to rest atop his hammer as he looked them over.

"Hold on, everyone..." He spoke, still holding a hand out towards them, as if that gesture in itself would keep them all calm. "We'll figure this out." He told them, running through various ways in his mind that they would be able to do that, and trying to suppress his own uneasiness in front of them. He looked up towards Ralph, who was still supporting himself on the doorframe, with concern. "What exactly have you all been feelin'?" He wondered, though this was basically for confirmation. If they were all feeling the same thing, at the same time, this could be more serious than he'd thought...

Just like before, the Nicelanders spouted out in untamed unison about their condition, which had the gentle giant face-palming. Asking what they were _all_ feeling, probably wasn't the best thing to do at that moment. He waited until there was a break in the outburst so he could wedge in his own response. When that happened a few seconds later, he looked at Felix again and tried to be as specific as possible.

"It's kind of hard to explain," he said, bringing a few fingers up to rub at his ear. "I can hear this weird sound, but I have no idea where it's coming from. It's filling my whole head, and it's a real pain. Literally." Simply _talking_ about his cranial discomfort had him wincing.

Beside Ralph, Mary piped up worryingly. "Oh dear, I can hear it, too! It's given me such a terrible headache."

Felix's expression of concern deepened when Mary had spoken up as well. His gaze shifted to her, and his own head began to swim again. Though he tried his best to push that feeling down. He unconsciously reached forward to hold onto the doorframe, similarly to what Ralph had done but a moment prior, and tried to play it off as simply a reaction to the news. He looked up to Ralph again as he continued.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," the wrecker agreed, bringing his hand down to rest over the middle of his torso; he massaged the area tenderly. "And I think it's spreading. Whatever this is, it's starting to affect my whole body." As awkward as that may have sounded, the 'buzzing' sensation felt like it was solidifying into some kind of disgusting gunk; it clogged up his lungs and bronchial tubes like an equivalent of a chest cold, which made breathing too deeply feel highly unpleasant.

Though as far as he could tell, Felix was okay, and that was a good thing.

The heroic handyman's hand left the doorframe to scratch under his cap in thought, before repositioning it and attempting to say something that would calm everyone. "Well, I suppose… anyone who can take a break today is welcome to." He said, slowly, and moved to rub the back of his neck. He figured that most of the Nicelander NPCs could simply take the work-day in shifts, instead of having the usual roles they always did. That may have made it easier for them.

There was one other, however, that didn't have that luxury, and he looked up at Ralph apologetically and patted the larger man on the leg. "… I'm sorry, Ralph. This is only until I can figure out what's going on." He told his friend, before turning to address everyone again. "Don't worry, everyone. I'll fix this." He assured them; though how exactly he was going to do that was beyond him – and that unnerved him.

The wrecker tried to put on a small smile. Being one of the main characters of the game, he knew more than anyone that it was impossible for him to ever take a break, _or_ a day off. It just couldn't happen. He'd already disappeared once, and well, it'd nearly gotten them unplugged. It couldn't happen again. No matter _how_ lousy he felt.

The Nicelanders, however, shared a collective sigh of relief. It was truly amazing how calm they became once Felix put his two cents in. Ralph hypothesized that the fixer could have suggested that they all stand on their heads as a solution, and they wouldn't have hesitated to do so just because their 'poster boy' for goodness told them to. But that was the way it had always been and things weren't about to change. _Especially _when they were all in the grips of what was assumed to be some kind of virus.

Reassured that everything would work out now that Felix was on the case, the Nicelanders began to disperse and return to their apartments before the day officially began (Mary could be heard saying that she would make everyone some soup). Alone, Ralph looked at Felix and thought of what else he could say. The two of them were friends now - _great_ friends, if he was being honest - but sometimes it felt just as awkward as it used to when talking to the good guy one-on-one.

"You…uh, don't have to figure this out by yourself," he said, hoping he was coming across as sympathetic and not bitter. Expressing his emotions properly had never come easy to someone like Ralph, who was more willing to destroy something rather than talk his problems out. Hopefully Felix would be able to pick up on the fact that he wanted to help.

"Thanks, brother." Felix replied with a grateful smile. He had the terrible habit of taking everyone's problems, and trying to solve them solely on his own, without help. It had been that way for so long, that it was just a force of habit now. Or perhaps that's just how he was programmed. If there was something that needed fixing in Niceland, then it was his job to fix it.

But the fact that he was not alone had been made abundantly clear before. Ralph, Vanellope and most certainly Tamora had proven to be infallible when it came to offering help; and he had to remind himself of that fact more often than he'd care to admit. He was very grateful to have such good friends.

The incessant buzzing in his ear suddenly increased in pitch like a microphone receiving too much feedback. The sudden sharp noise made him wince involuntarily and rub the side of his head until the sound subsided back into the annoying white-noise that it had been before.

He cleared his throat and looked up at his friend with an attempted grin. "Any idea where to start?" They had to find out what was going on before it _really_ got out of hand.

Ralph's face instantly fell at the sight. The fact that he rubbed at his head, in the _same_ spot where he himself heard the unexplainable noise, only justified the obvious. "Oh no. You, too?" he asked, frowning. So, Felix _hadn't_ been spared after all. He was just the same as the rest of them.

Felix had not meant for Ralph to find out that he was experiencing similar symptoms, so when he _had_ clued into that fact, he clasped his hands together and looked up to him with worry. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to start panicking, or something.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything." Ralph assured him, reading his expression. Because he knew that if the others so much as _fathomed_ the idea of Felix being out of commission, their world as they knew it would end.

The hulking man looked around as he finally pondered about the question he'd been asked. "I guess we should figure out if this is just in our game or something that's in the arcade in general," he contemplated, his brows furrowing in thought. "Let's hope that Sarge and Vanellope aren't feeling the same way." Though he didn't voice it, Ralph was actually quite concerned for his best friend. The racer was just a kid and she'd already had it hard being a glitch. He didn't want to think how she'd fair in the throes of a virus. "Whatever we do, it's gonna have to wait until tonight." For it wouldn't be very long at all until the first quarter of the day poked its head into their slot.

It was true, they _did_ still have to go about their days work, or there would be even more immediate problems. They had all gotten a taste of what could happen when just _one_ of the characters went missing; and that had only been a single game! He couldn't imagine what would have happened if the _both_ of them vanished for the entire day. Nor did he want to think about it.

But he couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that spread over him at the notion of what this could mean. Even if they did get out there and perform for the gamers, their conditions could cause a major slip-up during the workday. The incoordination he'd experienced that morning could greatly affect the performance of the game. Not just with him, but with Ralph and the others too. Who knows what could have happened, or how much worse it would get if this were to be left unchecked.

"I sure hope this hasn't spread around." He couldn't help but voice his concern. If there was anyone there he could share his problems with, it was Ralph. Ralph would most definitely be able to understand his concern. He'd imagine that the wrecker probably wanted nothing more at that moment than to run out to Sugar Rush to check on Vanellope, as he did with Tamora. Though they both knew that would have to wait. "Tamora seemed fine yesterday. Vanellope wasn't acting strange, was she?"

Ralph couldn't help but snort in his own personal amusement. The racer was _always_ acting up, regardless if she was feeling sick or not. In fact, if Vanellope _wasn't_ acting 'strange', then that would be cause for concern. But for the sake of answering Felix truthfully, he shook his head.

"Nah, she was her same obnoxious self. As usual," he replied, reaching up to rub the side of his head.

The fixer sighed. So Vanellope hadn't been affected either. That was a relief. Though it did raise some questions. Whatever this was, was it only affecting their game? Tamora had been there all last night, but it hadn't seemed to be affecting her; whereas he distinctly remembered feeling less than peachy. But she was tough, and probably quite capable of ignoring the milder symptoms he had been feeling the night before. Could she perhaps have been hiding it?

No. She'd made him promise to tell her if he got to feeling worse (something that he _knew_ he'd have to do at some point – though the thought of it made his stomach churn in anxiety). But then… why had she left without a word earlier that morning? _Maybe something had happened…_

Or maybe he was overreacting.

The handyman forced himself to relax. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to stable himself on the doorframe once again as another wave of dizziness overtook him. He had heard Ralph grunt with discomfort as well, and once his own discomfort had subsided, offered him a nervous smile. Whatever was happening was not good.

"Ya know, Ralph. At the risk of sounding sappy… I'm glad I have someone to talk to about all this." He told the larger man. It had been somewhat of the norm for him to have to deal with all of Niceland's problems on his own, but he had to admit, it was also nice to have someone he could rely on as well. The wrecker had proven himself as one of the bravest, most loyal people he knew. He was a hero, in every sense of the word – despite what his code might have said. It was just too bad it had taken so long to realize that.

The bad guy on the other hand, wasn't exactly experienced with 'fluffier' emotions; they didn't settle right inside of him and usually resulted with a lack of eye contact, or just being at a general loss of what to say. He knew that Felix genuinely meant what he said, but boy, that didn't make receiving the compliment any easier. Actually, it made it all the more difficult to reply to.

"Uhh…don't mention it," he eventually got out whilst rubbing the back of his neck. He probably could have said something a little better and far more creative, but he gave himself props for being able to formulate a response in the first place.

The sound of a jingling bell that sounded whenever the front door to the arcade was opened cut through the silence, announcing Litwak's arrival. Followed by the flickering on of lights beyond the screen. The arcade would be open any minute. "We should probably get to work." Felix stated.

Ralph straightened out his posture, cracked his thick knuckles, and slowly pushed himself in the direction of his 'wrecker mentality'. "Hang in there, Felix," he said, smiling a bit. "I'll try to go easy on you." Meaning there wouldn't be _as_ many broken windows for his friend to fix. He doubted the kids would notice or care, really, since he was technically the villain. If anything, they'd find it pretty sweet.

"Thanks, Ralph." He appreciated that, truly, and the two shared a smile as they gave each other a parting nod. Ralph made his way over to his starting position, and he figured he should do that too, but took a moment to press the back of his wrists up to his eyes in an attempt to lessen the headache that he had. That white-noise was beginning to turn into a high-pitched whine, and it was _not_ helping.

Figuring that was about as good as he was going to get it, he exited the house behind Ralph and made his way over to his own starting position. He could only hope that it was either a slow day, or these random waves of discomfort would keep to a minimum.

'Here we go…' the fixer thought, anxiously.

As Ralph waited to begin his destruction spree, he attempted to nurse his own head one final time. He gently massaged the bridge of his nose and then pressed his oversized fingers into his forehead. A few deep breaths later, he was as ready as his present condition would allow. And just in time, too. A quarter made itself known.

Fists clenched, scowl adorned, he roared out: "_I'M GONNA WRECK IT!_"

Their day officially began.


	5. Heading Out

As expected, the first couple of levels weren't so bad. Ralph did his thing, the Nicelanders did theirs, and Felix arrived to save the day. Typical workflow. One of the perks about being the NPC bad guy was that Ralph wasn't connected to the controls in any way; the joystick didn't command his actions, nor did the buttons. They were only wired to Felix. Therefore, he had complete control of what he broke and how much damage he actually caused. This made it simpler to _not_ destroy the apartment building to its full potential, so that his coworker wouldn't end up straining himself in the fixing process.

It wasn't until the late afternoon that the wrecker began to feel his fatigue spike up a few notches. Not only that, but it was getting progressively harder to do his job when his muscles were starting to ache and his vision was starting to blur; he was getting sicker. If that wasn't bad enough, he nearly lost his balance a few times and fell off the ledge of the building _without _anyone tossing him over. Luckily, he'd manage to right himself just before he toppled to the ground.

Much to his relief, the players weren't all that focused on him, aside from the occasional fleeting glance they offered to see where he was in order to avoid the falling bricks. This granted him a tiny, practically nonexistent opportunity to rest. If he were able to, he would have traded places with Felix, just to give him a break (which was something the hero couldn't take - not even for a split second). Ralph wasn't sentimental or comfortable with voicing his concern for the wellbeing of others, but he sincerely hoped that Felix was doing okay.

Because he sure wasn't, and he was lucky enough to catch his breath every now and again.

And sure enough, by the time the last quarter was deposited, Felix was absolutely exhausted. His head was swimming with an awful pressure, his ears were ringing, his vision was blurring, and much to his horror, the incoordination he had felt earlier that morning was beginning to return in violent waves. He could only hope that no one had noticed. It was a miracle he hadn't slipped off of one of the ledges the entire day, though that was probably due to adrenaline - or whatever substituted for it.

When the game finally ended, and Felix was pretty much running on auto-pilot as he stood atop the roof to accept his medal. He had 'spaced-out' more than once during the course of the day, and that along with many of the other symptoms, only seemed to be increasing in frequency and severity.

He snapped out of it when Ralph was being lifted from his position on the roof, unable to hold the smile he usually kept on for the gamers as this happened. The Nicelanders themselves seemed to be struggling, and they had distinctly displeased looks on their faces as they hoisted the wrecker up, and tossed him off of the building. It was like a cold fist of fear closed around his 8-bit heart at that. _Poor Ralph_. After all that, being tossed off a building and into a puddle of mud was _not_ something he would want to go through…

Down on the ground, Ralph hoisted up his torso and wiped the gooey filth off, but just as he began to get to his feet…something snapped within him.

"**_Hng!_**"

His head exploded with that awful ringing noise, causing him to reach up and cradle his skull in his hands. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from screaming - mostly because the sensation wasn't abating. He stumbled backward and slammed into the side of the building, breaking a window; the rest of the tall structure shook from the impact.

Just when he feared that he couldn't take anymore, the white-hot screeching disappeared. He opened his eyes and slowly lowered his hands from where they'd taken to firmly clutching his scalp. Completely drained from the agonizing experience, Ralph sat on the cement that stretched beneath the foundation of the building. He leaned back against the brick, panting and pale, while looking far less intimidating than he usually did.

Everything _hurt_.

As soon as the title screen had popped up onscreen, did Felix rush down to the ground to meet him. Pushing open the front doors and turning the corner, he spotted him and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" The concerned fixer questioned, trying to keep his own vision from blurring as he looked up at him. They needed to get help.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Felix," he said, willing his eyes to open. He glanced at the smaller character and then reached up, swiping at the sweat that was beaded across his wide forehead; his skin felt hot to the touch, making him wonder if he had a fever. Whatever 'having a fever' meant, anyway. "How're you holding up?"

From what he could see Felix was still hanging in there, but he wasn't nearly as energetic as he usually was. The fixer was a fidgety person by nature - whether that entailed twiddling his thumbs, rocking on his heels, or just smiling a lot. He was far too still, and that bugged Ralph.

"Sorry about the building, by the way…"

"That's your job." The fixer chuckled, managing a grin. "And I'm alright. But we should probably check on the others..." He said, referring to Tamora and Vanellope. A thought came to him, and he sat up a little straighter, glancing up to the larger man again with worry. "You don't think we'd get them sick or anything, do you?" He wondered. The last thing he wanted to do was to spread whatever this was around the arcade. _If _that was how whatever they had worked. Though he wasn't seeing any options other than going out and trying to figure out whatever this was.

Felix's words brought fresh concern into Ralph's expression. He looked away for a second and thought, his brows furrowing in whatever concentration he could muster around his horrible headache. Like Felix, he hadn't considered the possibility of them being contagious and spreading their virus.

Both Vanellope and Sarge couldn't afford to get sick - not with the crucial roles they played in their respective games.

"I…really don't know," he eventually replied, glancing back down at Felix. "I hope not." But there would be no guarantee unless they went out and saw for themselves. "I guess we don't have a choice either way."

If they stayed in their game to avoid contaminating the arcade, they wouldn't have been able to see if other characters were experiencing the same symptoms that they were. If they left to investigate, it was unknown if they'd infect their loved ones.

"I guess not." Felix sighed, resting his arms back on his knees and casting a glance towards the tunnel leading out of the game. "Things certainly aren't getting better with us just sitting here." He said, and after a moment he pushed himself up from his sitting position and back onto his feet, if not a little unstably. "Are ya comin', brother?" He looked up to his friend with a smile and gestured for them both to head towards the tunnel. He already knew Ralph's answer though. Ralph wouldn't miss out on a chance to help his home. He'd seen the lengths the wrecker would go to protect the things he cared about.

"Right behind you," he said, pushing his palms onto the ground to support him while he stood up. He slowly got to his feet and spent a beat steadying himself; he used the building as an anchor until his head stopped swimming. Then, nodding at his companion, he headed in the direction of the tunnel.

The walk there, which usually didn't take very long at all, felt like it took _ages_. The path occasionally distorted in front of him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and then open them again. Perhaps striking up conversation would distract him from how horrible he felt.

"This kind of reminds me of the virus we had a few years after we were first plugged in," Ralph reminisced, thinking back long ago. "Do you remember that?" They had all still been relatively new to their programmed careers when _Fix-It Felix Jr._ encountered its first virus. Granted, it was nowhere _near_ as brutal as the one they presently suffered from. It was much more comical, actually, now that he thought about it.

He'd never forget the expression on Dr. Mario's face when they'd all piled into the Mushroom Kingdom Hospital, looking more out of place than a Fire Flower in _Arctic Thunder_.

"Yes, I do. I remember that!" He answered, a little of the enthusiasm returning to his voice. "Boy, I don't think I remember ever seeing everyone so worried," And that was saying something, "But that Dr. Mario; what a guy." He remembered fondly, how the Mushroom Kingdom doctor had been able to help all of the Nicelanders. It was a great relief; and though the actual _Dr. Mario_ game had been unplugged some time ago, he knew Mario was still around. Maybe he shared some of the knowledge. "Maybe it's like that again." He suggested as they exited the tunnel and entered Game Central Station. That brought a little bit of comfort, at least. They had been able to cure it that time.

The sudden brightness and noise-level of Game Central compared to the quiet and quaint night-time scene of their game was enough to make Felix's headache spike again, and squint his eyes a little to reduce the amount of light that was getting to them. Had it always been so _loud_ there? The fixer gave a light groan and shook his head to focus back on the bustling center that was Game Central Station.

"_Jeez,_" Ralph groaned, placing a large hand on his head and closing his eyes.

"So, where should we go first?" He asked his larger companion, "… I kinda wanna check up on Tamora." He told the wrecker with a light grin as he glanced towards the sci-fi shooter.

"You do better in that place than I do. Plus, I'm pretty sure I'm banned from _Hero's Duty_ forever, so go check on her," Ralph stated, nodding towards the portal. Since his initial game-jump he'd only returned once, and that was for Felix and Calhoun's wedding. Even then he'd been personally escorted to the chapel by at least ten soldiers. "I'll head over to _Sugar Rush_ in the meantime. We can meet back up later."

He didn't want it to be public knowledge, but he was actually quite anxious to check on his best friend.

"Alright. See you soon, and be careful!" Felix pointed towards his companion in a sort of amused-warning as he began making his way through the crowd and over to the familiar entryway of _Hero's Duty_, while Ralph made his way over to _Sugar Rush_.


	6. Spit it Out

Eventually Felix made it through the tunnel leading into _Hero's Duty_, and while he had never particularly enjoyed the much more intense and fast-paced ride into the game, this time is was just downright disorienting. As he stepped off of the bullet train and into the harsh terrain, he tried to stop his head from spinning, and keep himself from stumbling right into the open area. He clasped his hands on either side of his head for a moment and shut his eyes, just giving himself a moment to regain his composure.

Soon the world was righted itself again and he looked up with a sigh. He did _not_ want to do this. But he had promised her that he'd let her know if he felt worse… He could only hope that if Tamora did notice any strange behavior. That she wouldn't notice how bad it was right away. That is, if she hadn't started experiencing similar symptoms as well…

He entered the area just in time to see everyone getting off for the day. They seemed cheerful enough. None of them were complaining about any of the things the Nicelanders were, and he couldn't help but feel relieved at that. Scanning over the crowd, he quickly spotted Tamora a little ways away and grinned. "Tammy!" He waved, trying to look as lively as possible.

Perhaps it was the day of the week, or just a poor selection of players, but by the time the day ended and the final perimeter check had been completed, the blonde was more than ready to park it somewhere and relax. Either that or chew someone's head off.

Tamora knew right away that things weren't going to end well after each level. It was a known and relieving fact that they were able to regenerate once the game ended, but that didn't make dying any easier to experience. Especially when it involved being torn apart in the churning gears of a Cy-Bug's mouth.

This fate was met by several of her men that day. Not only that, but she herself had been unlucky enough to be repeatedly crushed beneath rubble and other debris. But she didn't want to think about that. It only made her upset.

It was clear that the day's frustrations had kept her metaphorical spikes bristled, which explained how when she heard her name being called (her FIRST name, no less), she turned around with a distinct scowl on her face, ready to scream at the bold, brave soldier for not addressing her with her proper title.

But it wasn't a soldier. It was _Felix_. That automatically changed everything.

Unthawing from her icy state of being, Tamora walked over to the small hero. She hadn't had the chance to change out of her armor yet, or secure her weapon elsewhere, but that didn't stop her from approaching him and making conversation.

"I didn't mean to give you the slip this morning, Fix-It. Duty called. _Literally_," she told him, resting her large gun in the dip of her curvy hip.

Felix raised his hand after she'd finished speaking and shook his head, "_Ah ah ah_, think nothing of it. You've got a job to do." He said, moving his hands to rest behind his back and grin up at her. He couldn't keep the happy-look off of his face at seeing her alright; and though it wasn't a good thing that they had gotten a 'virus', it was a good thing to see that it wasn't spreading. At least, not as far as he could tell.

Tamora knew that Felix would understand her abrupt departure earlier; she honestly didn't think he was capable of _not _understanding anything, just because of how sweet and empathetic he was. Sure enough, the weight of constant loses diminished not even two minutes after she'd begun speaking with him, which proved that her husband was the perfect remedy for a bad day.

"But, if you want to, Ralph's at Sugar Rush right now - we could visit him. If you don't have something else planned." The friendly fixer offered, trying to swallow his nervousness as he pointed towards the tunnel. He didn't know how Ralph was holding up, but he'd imagine that the brightly coloured and cheery-_everything_ of Sugar Rush wasn't doing too much for his sense of wellness. That, and he still wanted backup if he was going to tell Tamora of their condition.

"We'll head over as soon as I get into some civvies," she said, motioning for him to follow as she began walking in the direction of the barracks. Which he did, eagerly.

Most of the men resided in a shared dorming facility, but since she was who she was, and also since her anatomy was _quite _different from the hulking males she commanded, the blonde was given her own private accommodations. Upon arriving at her door, she entered in a code and then stood straight as a light scanned her retina, cataloging her identity. Afterward, she spoke out: "Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun." There was a moment of pause before a computerized voice approved of her entry. "Access granted."

The two of them rarely spent much time in _Hero's Duty_, due to the more dangerous nature of the game, but Felix had been to her personal quarters before, and he didn't think he'd ever get over how incredibly _high-tech_ it was. Before coming here, he wouldn't have even thought of something like a voice-activated lock, let alone a personal identification system that works by scanning your eye. It was amazing.

When the computerized voice rang out, and the mechanized doors slid open with a pressurized _hiss_, he hurried into the small room on the other side, and looked back at the door for a moment as it slid shut again. Turning forward again at the sound of her voice.

"Feel free to park it somewhere. I won't be very long." She laid a gloved hand on top of his hat and rubbed his head through it, causing him to laugh and look up at her with a smirk as she made her way to her closet to change.

Moving to the small bed nearby, the handyman hopped up onto it and sat down, clasping his hands together in his lap and lightly kicking the side of the bed as he waited or her to change. The room was no bigger than an average bedroom. Tamora had never been one to decorate, so the overall "mood" of her personal quarters was understandably bland.

He watched her as she made her way over to her closet, and tried to ignore the ringing in his ears. At one instance, his vision went blurry and he had to blink rapidly and hold his head to right it again. Though after he did, he was caught off-guard by the sight of his wife removing her armour. A more modest woman would have gone into the bathroom or politely asked that their guest wait outside, but Tammy wasn't familiar with anything of the sort. As far as she was concerned, she and Felix were married. There was nothing to hide or be ashamed of.

"_Oh my-_" His face lit up in a blush, and he instantly reached up with a hand to pull the brim of his cap down over his eyes. Though at doing so, he couldn't help but giggle a little to himself. He supposed it wouldn't have mattered, what with them being married. But he still couldn't get over some of his reservations when it came to personal privacy, and it's not like he'd been _invited_ to watch or anything. Even though he was quite sure Tamora wouldn't have cared in the least. Despite her tough exterior, she was still a lady. "Let me know when you're done, honeybunch." He stammered.

Felix's exclamation had Tamora turning to look at him over her shoulder. She noticed how red he was and also how he'd shielded his eyes away from her. He was _definitely_ unlike any other man she'd ever met. Most males wouldn't have hesitated to sneak a peek at her goods (her own men had strained to look away on one occasion when she'd been forced to remove her armor on the field in order to dislodge a jagged piece of a Cy-Bug that had wedged itself beneath her rib).

Still, she knew that the fixer was far too respectful to ever behave that way; it wasn't in his code. That didn't stop her from changing, though. _Or_ snickering a little to herself.

After shedding the protective layers off of her and securing her gun in its proper holding case, she worked on retrieving some clothes. Her wardrobe didn't consist of many options (or colors, for that matter) so a white tank top and camouflage pants it was. Both articles of clothing were quickly pulled on before she walked over to the little man sitting on her bed.

"All clear," she teased, reaching out to return the brim of his cap back to its regular position.

Felix just sat back and looked at her with a grin. She would look pretty in anything, as far as he was concerned; and if it was comfortable for her, all the better. He couldn't imagine it would be all too comfortable to run around in bulky armour all day long. He certainly wouldn't have been able to do it.

Her hand took a detour from his hat and gently rubbed his smooth cheek. Though, upon touching him she couldn't help but notice that he didn't exactly feel cool to the touch like he normally did. He actually felt pretty…_warm_. Her brows knit together, and Felix's grin faltered at the sight. Tamora supposed it could have been because of all the blushing he just did, but somehow that didn't seem entirely accurate. And now that she _really_ looked at him, she could see that his naturally rosy cheeks had lost some of their color… She planned to comment on it, but before she could get any words out the sound of her communicator going off stole her attention.

_Phewf._ Saved by the bell.

She headed to where she'd deposited the device and accepted the incoming transmission. Kohut's face appeared, reporting that everything had been cleared for the evening. The soldier additionally informed her that some of the men were stationed by the tower to stand guard overnight, in case any other suspicious noises were heard coming from the inside again. "Keep me posted if anything happens," she told him, to which he nodded. "Affirmative. Enjoy your evening, Sergeant Calhoun."

When the conversation between the two came to a close shortly after, he offered her another grin, though this one was slightly more nervous than the last couple had been.

"Ready to go?" He offered.

Once the call was terminated, Tamora turned back to Felix just as he asked if she was ready to go. "Hang on," she told him, heading off to fetch something that sat in a nice case against the wall. Upon closer inspection the object was revealed to be none other than her cruiser.

While it would have been fine to simply walk through Game Central Station and take a ride into _Sugar Rush_, this was always a quicker and less confined way.

"Alright. Let's roll out," she stated, shouldering the cruiser as if it were a casual hiking backpack or something. Knowing that Felix would follow, she led the way out of her quarters and back towards the departing platform. The soldiers that had been previously walking about were no longer around, since they'd all gone off to do whatever it was they'd chosen for the night.

Instead of riding the bullet train out, she decided to refer to her preferred method of transportation. It took a light toss to have the cruiser unfolding before them and transforming into its full potential. Tamora mounted first - as usual - and then turned to her small spouse with a smile; she knew that he was well aware of the drill when it came to riding the cruiser, since he'd done it plenty of times before.

"Hop aboard, Fix-It. Next stop Sappy-Saccharine-Sweetness."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Things are gonna start heating up real soon. Like, it's gonna get intense - so hold onto your seatbelts, because the next couple of chapters are gonna be a bumpy ride!**


	7. Playtime

With Felix safely mounted and clinging onto her from behind, Tamora wasted no further time. The cruiser lurched forward with impeccable speed and took them down the long tunnel that fed into Game Central Station. She kept her gaze forward as they rode the length of the passageway until they entered the busy terminal. This wasn't a strange sight to those who frequented the station, which is why no one panicked or batted a pixelated eyelash when they shot over towards the _Sugar Rush_ portal.

The sickly sweet smell of cotton candy and other numerous treats was like a slap in the face if you weren't used to it (and even if you _were_ used to it) upon arriving in the candy-coated land. The cruiser soared over the bridge - the very bridge where she and Felix had shared their first kiss - and headed straight for the castle, where they normally congregated when visiting the game.

Vanellope had originally suggested that they meet in Diet Cola Mountain as a makeshift secret base, but it took one glance at the boiling-hot cola springs and Mentos stalagmites for Tamora to deem it an unstable and unsafe location.

And so, it was decided that they'd _always_ meet at the castle.

It didn't take long for them to arrive, based on how fast she was going. Soon enough, the cruiser landed a few steps short of the front door. She dismounted first and gave Felix a second to do so as well before the device folded right back up into its portable form. Reaching out, she saw to knocking so that their presence would be addressed. A second or so passed, and in this brief time of waiting she looked down at Felix to see if the ride over had ruffled his feathers any. Though he only seemed slightly disoriented. He was getting better at that.

Soon enough, the door opened and the oh-so-_excitable_ face of Sour Bill appeared, gazing up at them with his droopy green eyes. "Welcome, friends of President Vanellope…" he droned, ever the cheer-bringer. "Won't you come in?" The small sphere stepped aside to grant them entry while simultaneously offering the pair a slow bow. Tamora strode past him with little concern or regard to King Candy's previous minion. "Sheesh. Would it kill'ya to perk up, Sour Stuff?"

The two of them were ushered into the building, though Felix was careful to avoid the chocolate welcome matt that he _knew_ was not as innocent _or_ as welcoming as it appeared to be. But despite that, he still offered Sour Bill a smile and a wave as he followed closely after his wife.

The interior was no-doubt impressive.

Absolutely _everything_ in sight was constructed out of some sort of confection. Now, he didn't know much about Vanellope's decorative tastes, but there did seem to be more pink involved in the colour scheme than even the little racer would be fond of.

Not too much after that thought had crossed his mind, could the pitter-patter of tiny feet be heard racing down a nearby hall, followed by a distinctly familiar voice.

"_Ralph!_ Hurry it up, ya slowpoke! We've got guests!" Came the excited voice of Vanellope, as she skidded around the corner and came to a stop atop a set of stairs that were constructed out of what appeared to be large strawberry sugar wafers. Tamora couldn't keep a smirk from forming on her lips as the miniature president appeared before them with all her showoff-y bravado.

Vanellope hopped down a couple steps, and stopped when she was about eye-level to the Sarge. "Welcome, to castle von Schweetz!" She announced with a large grin, as if the two hadn't visited there before. "Ralph's comin', and just a heads up, he's been clumsier than usual today." She told them both with a laugh.

"Felix, Sarge," the wrecker greeted not a moment later. "Nice've you guys to meet up with us." He held his coworker's stare for a second and then glanced at Vanellope with his eyes before giving his head a small shake, implying that no, she _wasn't_ infected.

Felix slouched forward a little in relief and replied with a smile and a nod of his own, gesturing as discretely as he could to Tamora to signal that she too, was unaffected.

Perhaps it had been the prospect of seeing his best friend, or just because he was sick of well, being _sick_, Ralph had put some serious effort into masking his condition. That didn't erase the look of fatigue on his face, or the nature in which his massive shoulders were slumped, but at least he wasn't stumbling around (as much) or encountering that awful screeching noise (sort of).

"It was Fix-It's idea to head over," Tamora explained, resting her weight onto one leg and loosely folding her arms over her chest. And now that they were there it generally fell upon Vanellope to dictate what they were going to do, since she was technically the leader of _Sugar Rush_. Lucky for them the tiny ruler was far too tomboyish for things like 'tea parties' and 'manicures'.

Thank _goodness_ for that.

"Well don't look _too_ excited!" The litter racer teased, hopping down the last couple steps to stand in front of both Tamora and Felix. "Come on! We've been in here all day." She gestured for the others to follow her as she walked past the still-nearby Sour Bill and out the front door to the castle, stopping only once she was out the doors to glance back over her shoulder at the others. "I was thinking we could go to Gumdrop Hill and watch Ralph throw jawbreakers down it. That's always good for a laugh. Or! Or! We could go for a swim- or…" She trailed off, shooting a sly look towards Felix, "We could hang out in the 'fungeon', if ya want." She said with a laugh.

That suggestion however, just caused Felix to cross his arms and grin at the mischievous president.

"Are you going to suggest that every time we come here?" He questioned, amused.

"You better believe it. Now _come on!_" The girl rushed, skipping ahead of them and down the path leading away from the castle.

Vanellope's energy spread faster than wildfire. Were Ralph in a better state of being, he might have chased after the youngster and swung her onto his shoulders while they headed for their destination. Instead, he trailed behind her, while trying to keep himself upright and not stumbling all over the darn place.

If he was being honest, throwing jawbreakers around wasn't exactly something he wanted to do. That required strength on his part, and since he was rather lacking in that department, he figured something more relaxing and quiet would work.

Tamora walked behind the two alongside Felix, with her cruiser still slung over her back. Nearby, she could hear the sound of the other racers zooming through the various tracks as they practiced for upcoming races. Since _Sugar Rush_'s liberation, the kids weren't nearly as bratty as they were before. They maintained _some_ attitude, sure, but they weren't completely unbearable like they had been under King Candy's rule.

Up ahead, Ralph looked down at Vanellope. "So, where we headin', kid? I'm not really feeling the jawbreaker idea," he said, trying to think of a valid excuse as to why it would be better if they boycotted the possibility altogether. "Last time I dropped one on my foot, and I can still feel it in my toes." Alright, so that wasn't a _complete_ lie. He had dropped it, and his toes still maintained that unpleasant ache. Sort of. "What about taking a trip to Ice Cream Slope?"

That way, Vanellope would be distracted by the copious amounts of ice cream and wouldn't pay much attention to him or Felix. Besides, last time they went they'd all had a fairly good time.

"Oh, _yeah!_" Vanellope cheered in agreement at Ralph's suggestion, pumping her fist up into the air and turning back around to continue down the path. She hadn't seemed to think much about Ralph's unwillingness to toss jawbreakers down the hill. She remembered quite vividly (and with great amusement) how the wrecker had dropped one of the large hard candies directly onto his foot last time they had done that. It had to have hurt, but it sure was funny; and while she wouldn't have been _totally_ opposed to a repeat performance, the idea of slipping and sliding down Ice Cream Slope was pretty appealing too.

That, and Ralph seemed a little… _off_ today.

Eventually, they all made their way to the base of Ice Cream Slope. A large mountain that was adorned completely with different flavours and layers of ice cream. Some of the other denizens of Sugar Rush could be seen sliding down the mountainside with glee, building ice cream forts, making ice cream angels, having ice cream fights, all of the usual activities related to colder environments.

"Well, here we are!" She announced, hopping into some of the vanilla ice cream in front of her that suddenly divided the candy-forest area to the more alpine-esque one. "Sarge! If you grab one of those donuts over there, we can go down the frozen slide!" The excited girl called out, pointing towards a long half pipe a little ways up the mountain, where other children seemed to be sliding down it on what appeared to be oversized donuts. "Last time I tried to get Ralph to go on it with me, we took out practically everyone on the way down." She giggled at the memory.

"Alright, Schweetz. Let's show these slope-sliders how it's really done," she stated, heading over to the stack of donuts. She easily hauled one of the thick rings onto her shoulder before she began hiking up the gooey incline with little to no effort. Vanellope gave the male half of their group an excited wave, before scrambling after Tamora.

This left Felix and Ralph alone to discuss what was plaguing both their minds (and bodies) at that moment.

"What are we going to do?" Felix whispered urgently up to his friend, tugging on his overalls to get his attention. "If we're going to get their help, then we've got to tell them." He wrung his hands nervously in front of himself, obviously apprehensive about doing just that.

The wrecker took in a deep breath and then exhaled a cloud of frosty air. "Then we'll tell them," he replied, glancing up to where Sarge and Vanellope had gone. "If we break it to them gently there shouldn't be a problem, right?"

There was a bout of silence, and all Felix could do was take off his hat and run a distressed hand through his hair.


	8. Bugged

A tight knot of anxiety twisted in the fixer's stomach as he watched his wife and friend ascend the colourful mountain. It was getting to be too much. Being the bearer of bad news wasn't in his programming – but they had no choice. He _knew_ that Tamora was not going to like the news. Neither of them were; but Tamora's reaction specifically was what he feared.

"_Jiminy_…" He sighed. He was starting to feel a little lost; another thing he wasn't used to. "Tammy is _not_ going to take this well." He told his friend, the panic he had been feeling that day began to overflow. "She has a _past_, Ralph!" The fixer fretted.

Tamora's history had actually been one of his main concerns when it came to telling her. He didn't even want to think about the turmoil that would go on in her head if she thought that she was in danger of losing more people she cared about.

This wasn't something a magic hammer could fix; and that was becoming increasingly obvious.

Felix leaned forward and sighed, "Sorry for the outburst."

This wasn't the first time Ralph had witnessed one of Felix's 'freak-outs'. They were rare for the little guy, but boy, they had an awful tendency to completely frazzle him. It might have been funny in another circumstance, but the large male could sense how truly nervous his friend was about revealing the true nature of their condition.

Ralph's fingers reached out and hovered, unsure, before they lightly patted the short hero on his narrow shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he said, retracting his hand. "If you ever need to…uh…have more outbursts, it's okay." Felix smiled up at him gratefully. He knew it was hard for Ralph to express his emotions sometimes, so that meant a lot.

"Thanks, Ralph. I couldn't tell her without your help."

The wrecker just nodded; and because he didn't trust his balance at the moment, and was beginning to feel another unwelcoming wave of dizziness descend over him, Ralph seated himself on a giant sprinkle that was lodged in the ice cream. It bent slightly beneath his weight, but it held up impressively.

"We'll tell them as soon as they win." He said, leaning forward on his knees. It's not as if they would _lose_. Not with personalities like Tamora and Vanellope's working together.

Felix's line of sight returned back towards the girls. "And knowing them, that shouldn't take too long." He replied, hugging his arms together in front of himself.

Nearby, the familiar face of Adorabeezle Winterpop surfaced from behind a collected pile of ice cream, where she'd been playing with Minty Zaki. "Hey, Vanellope!" she greeted, waving at her fellow racer as she and Sergeant Calhoun trekked towards the frozen slide. It hadn't been too far back when Adorabeezle and Minty wouldn't have hesitated to bully Vanellope and make her feel like the inadequate glitch that she was, but since their memories had been rightfully returned they were genuinely friendly toward their president now.

"Adorabeezle! Minty!" Vanellope turned from the Sarge to give her two new-found friends a smirk and a wave. "You guys remember the Sarge, right? Sergeant Calhoun!" She introduced, holding out both hands in presentation towards the woman in question. "She helped us out with all that… bug stuff, ya know. So she's cool!" The president nodded, holding her grin. "We were just about to go for a ride. Do you guys want to join us? We could race down the hill." At this suggestion, her eyes took on a more competitive glint.

The very instant the word 'race' was thrown into the equation, both Adorabeezle and Minty abandoned whatever they'd been doing and trotted over. "Count us in!" the wintery racer exclaimed, speaking for both herself and Minty. Now that the two were closer, they seemed _somewhat_ intimidated as they regarded Tamora, but that was probably because she was quite large in comparison to their tiny selves.

That _and_ they'd witnessed what the woman was capable of when it came to firing a gun and destroying those gross and scary bugs. Still, they didn't seem too put off by her presence. At least, not enough to back out of Vanellope's indirect challenge.

Likewise, the no-nonsense sergeant was ready to take them on. "First pair to the bottom of the slope takes it all," she announced, handing over the donut she'd been carrying to the other two girls and then retrieving a new one for herself. "I don't wanna see any sore losers either. Got that, ladies? Chins up and game faces on. Now, forward march!" With that, she led the three kids up towards the slide so they could begin their race.

"Yeah! Alright!" Vanellope cheered in delight, jumping up into the air and pumping her fist upwards in excitement. There was no way they would lose! Not with the Sarge on her team. She considered herself to be quite the skilled racer on her own, but with Sergeant Calhoun's tactical insight, Adorabeezle and Minty didn't stand a chance. "Lets do this!" She cheered, happily following after Tamora as she led the way up the hill.

Soon afterwards, both teams had reached the top of the hill, and stood looking down at their track. There wasn't much in the way of obstacles, apart from the other characters that were having their own fun on the slope. But there was nothing as far as 'power ups' or 'hazards' went, or any of that fun stuff. At least, none that were obvious. But she was sure both her and her new partner could get creative, if they wanted to.

Prior to takeoff, Tamora had made sure that the racer was comfortably (and safely) situated at the front of the donut. Then, wedging in behind her, Cal waited for the countdown, because she'd be ready to push them off at full-force.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she spoke. "Ok! You guys know the drill. countdown from three, and we take off." She said, her more competitive side already taking over. "It's pretty much a straight ride down, so don't be afraid to try and slow us down - That is… if you can catch us." The tiny president snickered, and hopped into the large donut with Calhoun, readying herself for 'takeoff' as both Minty and Adorabeezle did the same. "On one!" She began, settling down lower into her 'seat' as they prepared to push off down the slope. "3 - 2 - 1 - _GO!_"

And with that, they were _gone_. Calhoun wasted no time in kicking powerfully off of the ground and propelling them forward over the slope of the hill.

Tamora Jean Calhoun never once saw herself racing down a slope made out of vanilla ice cream on an oversized donut. Some things you just never imagined when you were in the military. Knowing how much it meant to Vanellope, though, after all the crud she'd gone through was the deciding factor in her choice when it came to participating in these ridiculous reindeer games.

The speed in which they slid was only amplified by the angle of the slope. The ice cream was deceptively slick, so that helped as well. A fleeting glance was offered to their opponents, who were cheering while attempting to pass them. Not that they could, of course. Then they'd have actually stood a chance.

At the bottom of the incline, Ralph watched. He didn't have it in him to cheer as wildly as he usually did, but not even a virus would stop him from encouraging the kid and Sarge. He lifted up his enormous hands and framed either side of his mouth, calling out: "C'mon, guys! You've got this!" And 'got this' they did. Both pairs were so close to the finish line that it would just be a few more seconds before they―"Sweet Mother Hubbard…"―before they crashed into the piled ice cream at the bottom. Ralph only wished he'd made that connection sooner and been able to scramble out of the way.

_SLOOOSSSHH!_

An unavoidable tidal wave of ice cream washed over the two that were waiting for Sarge and Vanellope at the bottom of the slope. The wrecker shot up from his seat to shout out a strangled noise in unison with Felix, both of them lifting up their arms. Unsurprisingly they were both now _covered _in the frozen substance.

Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad, but it wasn't just vanilla flavoring that met his taste buds. "Augh, _chocolate_? Really?" the wrecker grumbled, swiping the gooey mixture off of his clothes with a grimace.

Vanellope, who had been hooting and hollering the entire way down the slope, was silenced when the oversized donut came crashing into the giant mound of ice cream. Though the silence was only momentary, as shortly after the cheerful figure of Vanellope, covered head to toe in vanilla and chocolate ice cream hopped right out of the ice cream pile with yet another loud cheer.

"YEAH! We did it, Sarge! We _creamed_ 'em!" She laughed in delight, hopping around in excitement from their newfound victory. "Ya know, you're not a bad racer!" She stopped suddenly in her celebration when she noticed the two nearby figures of both Ralph and Felix. Ralph trying desperately to get the flavour of chocolate out of his mouth, and Felix just blinking in shock. "_Pffft!_ You guys look like you just had a run-in with an ice cream truck!" She pointed and laughed, completely ignoring the fact that she was just as covered as the rest of them. "Do you want cones to go with that!?" She fell backwards onto the pile of ice cream and held onto her cream-coated sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

It wasn't the most graceful finish, but things like that didn't matter when you took home the gold. Tamora retracted herself from the cold, gooey ice cream and reached up to push aside some of the longer pieces of her blonde hair; the golden strands were sticking together and would _definitely_ need a good washing later, but for now she had no trouble basking in she and Vanellope's shared victory. They'd earned it fair and square and no amount of bellyaching would prove otherwise.

The miniature president's abrupt outburst of laughter (combined with Adorabeezle and Minty's laughter as well) had her glancing at Ralph and Felix who, admittedly, looked pretty darn hilarious. Kneeling beside Vanellope, the sergeant reached out and scooped the little one into her arms prior to standing up; she settled the girl onto her shoulders and held her small legs as they dangled on either side of her collarbone.

"I think we've earned ourselves some victory drinks, Schweetz," she stated, heading towards the other two members of their close-knit quartet. "What do you say, men? Up for another visit to Tapper's?"

When the last blasted remnant of chocolate was unhappily spat out of Ralph's mouth, he looked at Sarge and Vanellope and then gazed down at Felix – who was also trying desperately to get the gooey treat off of himself – and nodded wordlessly. The race was officially over, so the beans needed to be spilled. _Pronto_. With a 'here goes nothing' mentality firmly embraced, the wrecker held up a hand.

"Wait. There's something Felix and I need to tell you guys," he announced. "It's…pretty important."

At this, Felix stopped any attempts to clean himself off and looked up to Ralph with worry.

Tamora's footsteps came to a crisp halt a few steps short of reaching them. She didn't seem bothered by the statement. Just interested. "Keep talking, Wreck-It. We're listening."

Ralph hesitated for a beat, but it wasn't because he was at a loss for words, or even because he'd suddenly frozen up with anxiety. An ill-timed and horrible coincidence made itself known right then and there: The shrill ringing in his ears amplified far beyond the level his feigned control could tolerate, coaxing him to bring up his fingers and press them into his temples. He looked down, hissing in discomfort, before he stared back at the girls again; his eyes were glazed with notable pain, and his face looked as pale as the vanilla ice cream they stood on when he uttered two final words.

"We're bugged."


	9. Fun's Over

_Bugged. _Why did he have to say '_bugged_'?

Felix shrank down a little at Ralph's words, and his wide eyes flicked back and forth between both the girls and Ralph, as he awaited their reaction.

Vanellope actually took on a look of genuine concern when her friend had shown obvious signs of pain; and was silent for a moment as she simply tried to make sense out of what he was saying. "Bugged?" She repeated,"What do you mean 'bugged'? Like, a glitch?" She asked, leaning forward slightly on Tamora's shoulders.

"Now, hold on - we can explain this." Felix raised his hands in a preemptive calming gesture. "There may be a _tiny_ little virus running through our game…" He brought his thumb and forefinger together to accentuate the word 'tiny' as best as he could. Though with Ralph's recent display of discomfort, he wasn't sure how effective that would be. "But it's nothing we can't fix!"

It took one word to wipe whatever smile had been on Tamora's lips clean off her face. It took one word to have her reaching up to grab onto Vanellope. It took one word for her to set the girl down as she filled in the remaining distance between herself and the two men. And it took one word for her to transform into the unfeeling, merciless, cruel sergeant that she was on the battlefield.

"A _virus_?!" she echoed, her tone elevated into something far more clipped and unfriendly than it had been in quite some time. "Do you realize what this even _means_?"

Ralph knew that Felix would be far too nervous to bother with defending them, so he did his best to reason with Sarge, even though it was crystal clear that she was beyond livid at being kept in the dark. "Look, we're trying to figure this out, so getting worked up about it won't―"

"I seriously don't think _either_ of you understand the consequences of what may or may not happen while you're both infected," she snapped, growing more irritated by the second. "Did you two even consider the fact that you're contagious?"

"Well, yeah, but it doesn't look like―"

"It _never_ looks like anything at first!" she fiercely interjected, stepping even closer to them. "There's no telling what kind of filthy bug is eating its way through your codes right now, or what it may do when it's done with you."

Though she seemed drastically upset over the affair, it was merely a defense mechanism in response to the deep offense she felt by not being informed straight away of the virus. This especially applied to the one person she trusted above all else…the one person she'd married…the one person she now looked at. Though her eyes were glaring quite threateningly, there was an undeniable layer of hurt hidden beneath all of the boiling anger.

Felix had broken his promise.

With a huff that sounded far too emotional for her taste, Tamora looked at Ralph again. "Did you two good-for-nothings bother to see if any other games were affected?"

"We were going to, but we wanted to make sure you two were okay first," Ralph replied, glancing at Vanellope. He seriously hoped the kid wasn't as mad at him as Sarge was. He could handle the cold shoulder from the blonde, but from his best friend? He'd feel even more awful than he currently did.

"There's no time for sentimentalities when a virus is involved," Tamora remarked, reaching for her cruiser. She tossed the device and then mounted without any intention of asking Felix to board with her. In fact, she made it a point to ignore him entirely as she prepared to depart. "Go back to your game and remain there until I get there with my men. And Schweetz," she paused, looking down at the nine-year-old. "You stay far away from these two until we know what we're dealing with."

With that, the cruiser took off and Tamora headed back towards the entrance of _Sugar Rush_. Soon enough she'd have her men suited up and ready to take charge against whatever it was that may have been attempting to ruin the arcade.

As she departed, Felix's hands were clamped tightly together in front of himself, he was shaking like a leaf, and all he could do was stare at her retreating form with wide, worried eyes. He hadn't even been able to get his mouth to work so he could offer Ralph some backup.

He had never seen her so upset - well, not at _him_ anyways; and it tore him up. The brief look that the two had shared was enough to make him go still with dread. It was a look that was entirely unfamiliar on her face. _Fear_. Under that anger, she was afraid, and they had done that to her. _He_ had done that to her; and at that realization, an overwhelming sense of guilt overcame him.

He was supposed to _help_ people, not hurt them… and especially not his own wife.

Vanellope on the other hand, was still trying to process what had just happened. Just a moment ago, they were all having fun! Everything had been fine! And now, she had no clue what was going on. Sarge wanted her to stay away from them?

She turned back towards her two friends, an unmistakable expression of worry on her face as she stared up to Ralph in particular. "You guys are okay though, right?" She spoke after a moment of silence, her hands moved to grip the fabric at the front of her hoodie.

"We're fine," he told her, forcing his lips into a smile. "And we're gonna stay fine. Nothing bad will happen." There was no guarantee behind the wrecker's words, which was why he didn't promise her anything. For all he knew he and Felix could have up and… No. He shook away those negative thoughts.

"_I'm not going anywhere!_" Her voice suddenly spiked in pitch, and her little hands closed into determined fists at her sides as a glitch rippled through her. She sparked out of her place in a blue ripple of code, before reappearing next to Ralph a fraction of a second later and latching onto his leg. He hadn't left her during the Sugar Rush incident, when by all rights he should have, and because of his unwillingness to leave her behind, he had saved not only her - but her entire game. He was her best friend, and the thought of leaving him now was simply out of the question.

"Kid…" For all of her belligerence and smart alec-y ways, Vanellope was _still_ just a little girl at the end of the day. It was easy to forget that when she was giving him a hard time, but circumstances like these reminded Ralph how fragile she actually was.

Exhaling a deep breath, he knelt down onto one knee in front of her. She weighed close to nothing as he took her in his arms, cradling her against his shoulder in the most delicate hug he could muster, her own hands closing into tight fists on the fabric of his shirt. "I know what Sarge said bothered you, and I know that you don't want to stay away from us, but I think it may be better if you listen." As much as it pained Ralph to say such things, he didn't want to risk Vanellope somehow contracting the virus. She meant far too much to him for that.

He pulled away from the embrace though kept her situated in his hands; his cupped palms served as a seat for her to sit. "We're sick, kid. We don't want you to be, too."

"No way." She spoke, looking up with him in disbelief. Why would he even _suggest_ something like that? She couldn't just leave! "I'm not leaving, and you can't make me, Ralph!" Her voice rose again, though this time it was more in an angry desperation, than just basic concern.

"You were fine. Both of you." She looked from Ralph down to Felix and back up again with glossy eyes, but still she was too stubborn to allow herself to cry. "You were fine yesterday, and you were fine a couple minutes ago! And I don't _care_ if I get sick!" She said with narrowed eyes, jumping up into a standing position in Ralph's large hand and looking up towards him with determination. "You didn't leave me when I told you to, so why should I leave you now, _huh?!_" She demanded to know. She was visibly shaking, thought she kept herself rigid in an attempt to hide it; though it was fairly obvious that she was simply more freaked out than anything else.

Ralph had attempted to get some words in, but there were few breaks in the little racer's passionate monologue. By the end of Vanellope's tirade, and when it was clear that she was three shakes short of bursting into tears, he knew that he couldn't push her away. He'd quite literally wrecked something that she once wanted more than anything, and he wasn't about to do it again. Even if it resulted with another verbal beating from Sarge, even if he was inadvertently dooming them all, he couldn't leave her behind.

Virus or no virus, she was coming with them.

Ultimate defeat came in the form of a crooked smile. "Yunno, that nerve of yours is gonna get you in some serious trouble one of these days, kid," he said, shaking his head. "But fine. You win. You can stick with us." Carefully, Ralph stood back up with Vanellope still standing in his palms.

The little racer instantly relaxed in her rigid position at these words and let out a sigh of relief, a small, victorious smile spreading on her face. Now that the whole 'leaving them' thing was thrown off the table, she was able to focus all her attention onto the problem at hand; though, not without throwing a bit of snarkiness in, just to save face after her 'freak-out'.

"Yeah, and like you're not just as stubborn as I am." She said with crossed arms and a smirk, but an underlying sense of happiness and relief was evident behind those words.

Ralph's gaze now targeted Felix, who still appeared seriously unnerved by what had happened with his wife. But unfortunately, that wasn't something they could help him with.

"I have a feeling Sarge went to round up the troops, so we'd better get back to our game," he suggested, looking towards the bridge in the distance. It wouldn't be long until Game Central Station was flooded with soldiers filing into each and every portal, checking to see if the other characters were affected. They were better off returning before they got caught up in all that hullabaloo.

"G_eez_, did Sarge have to take the cruiser? That's a long walk… I wish I had my kart here." The girl was quick to sink back into her previous disposition as they began their trek towards the bridge.


	10. Soldiers

Eventually, the trio made it to the bridge and exited into Game Central Station. Everytime Vanellope had a chance to leave her game, she was always more than excited, since she had spent the majority of her life thinking that she would never get that privilege. This time however, she only had one thing on her mind; and that was to figure out what was going on. During their walk, the princess-turned-president had climbed up to sit atop one of Ralph's massive shoulders, and she took advantage of her new perch to scope out the area.

The hub was still bustling with activity, though from what the girl could tell Sarge's marines were nowhere to be seen. At least, not yet. Either that, or they had already been assigned to different games and were already checking them out. She wouldn't doubt it either, the Sarge worked quick.

"I don't see any soldiers." She stated her thoughts as they continued through the crowd towards _Fix-It Felix Jr._ "And what's the plan when we get in here? Are we just gonna wait around?" She looked down at Ralph.

"There's not much we can do now that Sarge is running things," he said, glancing at the kid through the corner of his eye. "Waiting in Niceland is our best bet. Which reminds me," he broke off, looking down at Felix. "You'd better give the Nicelanders a heads up. I don't think they're gonna react too well to having Sarge's men in here."

Felix – who had been sticking close-by Ralph as they entered the tunnel – looked up and nodded at the larger man. If the soldiers were in there, he wasn't sure that he wanted to go in. Though he knew he had to save face in front of the Nicelanders. The idea of talking to Tamora after what had happened was both something that he desperately wanted to do, and at the same time wanted to avoid for as long possible.

_Fix-It Felix Jr._ was far too quiet and peaceful a game for the diehard men of _Hero's Duty_ to stomp around in. Besides, Ralph was more than sure that Mary would have a heart attack if she opened her door to find an armed soldier towering over her, demanding answers she couldn't provide.

As they entered the sleepy environment, the wrecker was both surprised and unsurprised to see the Nicelanders waiting at the station. They looked to be in full-blown "panic mode", and the moment, no, the very _millisecond_ they spotted―"_Felix!_ Thank goodness you're back!"―they were swarming their resident fixer with all sorts of questions and concerns, since they still believed him to be immune to the virus.

For what it was worth, the Nicelanders _did_ look worse off than he'd recalled from earlier that morning; their 8-bit movements were more delayed than usual, and their normally bright eyes appeared much duller than they were on a daily basis. Ralph could tell without even trying that they were getting worse. _All_ of them.

"Don't worry, everyone - help is on the way." He told them all, hoping to at least calm their panicked babbling down somewhat. "The fellas from _Hero's Duty_ are gonna stop by and make sure everything's alright. If there's anything in here, I'm sure they'll find it." He assured them, looking them over. "Just hang tight."

He honestly hoped that was the case. The Nicelanders had gotten visibly worse since earlier that morning. If they didn't find out what was happening soon, then - he didn't even want to think about it. They _would_ find out what was happening, and they would put an end to it; because they had to.

Though as worried as the fixer was about the virus, a completely new worry collectively surfaced in the faces of the Nicelanders. Concerned and fretful glances were exchanged, and a panicked chattering filled the crowd. _Hero's Duty_ soldiers in _Fix-It Felix, Jr_?

They weren't too thrilled about that.

Beside the fixer, Ralph tried to think of anything he could offer as support. He doubted that it would do much as far as comforting went, just because all of their hopes were resting with Felix and Felix alone. That certainly didn't stop him from trying, though.

"Felix is right," he said, catching their attention. "Those guys know what they're doing."

Gene looked to be in absolute disagreement with this assertion. He lifted up a stubby finger and pointed it at Ralph, prepared to give the bad guy a piece of his mind, but before he could get a single criticizing word out there came a low rumbling from the tunnel. Everyone slowly turned towards the opening to see what could have been making that noise. The closer it drew, the more detailed it became.

It sounded like…_footsteps_. Lots of footsteps. Uniformed together in flawless unison.

Protectively, Ralph reached up and held onto Vanellope with one hand. He may not have been in the greatest shape, but the kid's safety was foremost in his thoughts. Not five seconds later two lines of soldiers appeared, marching through the tunnel and into Niceland; they wore their armor and held their guns at perfect attention. Ahead of them, a familiar sergeant led the way, barking orders at the men as they filed forward.

"Alright, ladies, keep formation!" Tamora shouted, prior to gesturing to two individual soldiers. "Greene, Rodriguez! Start lining 'em up! The faster we get through the inspection the faster we can wrap up and head to the next game. Now _move_!"

The burly men wasted no time carrying out their assigned directive. The Nicelanders were herded, much like skittish sheep, away from the station platform and onto the pathway that led to the apartment building. From there, they were put into pairs of two while a single soldier performed an inspection.

"_Woaah, awesome…_" The tiny racer breathed out in awe at seeing the soldiers at work. She had momentarily forgotten that she was there against the Sarge's orders. Quickly remembering though, she zipped her lip and ducked down a little lower behind Ralph's steadying hand. Wide, fascinated eyes remained fixated on the soldiers however. Soldiers that would have absolutely _towered_ over her, had she not been on Ralph's shoulder.

"It's alright, everyone. They're professionals." Felix stated, looking over the terrified, huddled Nicelanders and up towards the Hero's Duty soldiers. He would admit they were intimidating, and he probably would have been trembling along with everyone else, had he not felt the need to reassure everyone. That, and he had become _somewhat_ familiar with them during his time spent with Tamora - gosh, he wished they hadn't gotten into a fight. If anything was going to be intimidating about that, it would have been interacting with her.

Though he figured he should deal with the hulking figures before all of his friends, before he dealt with his personal issues. "What do you need us to do, gentlemen?" He asked the towering soldiers with an attempted smile.

Markowski - the man that Ralph had once impersonated - heard Felix's question and replied.

"You'll be instructed to open your mouth, and from there an oral probe will be inserted. It should be able to determine the nature of the virus, as well as what degree of severity it's issuing," he explained. "Our foremost goal is to assist any and all infected civilians, so your cooperation would be appreciated."

_… Oral probe?_ That didn't sound too pleasant…

Felix glanced up towards Markowski with a paled expression as he described the process, watching as his friends were rounded up like cattle to have their own 'examinations'. They were obviously not used to that kind of treatment – Gene especially seemed to have some things to say – and he was quick to send anyone that happened to look over to him an apologetic look. This whole day was a disaster.

The large soldier at his side suddenly shifted in his position, and the little fixer couldn't help but tense up. Even though he was trying to keep up a brave face for everyone, this whole thing was pretty scary.

"Markowski! Take care of the other civilians. I've got this one," she ordered, sending the soldier further down the line of Nicelanders. When he obeyed, she walked into the scene to stand in front of Felix. Her expression remained firm and far from the loving, sweet woman that had cuddled with him the night before. "Open your mouth," she instructed, saying nothing more.

Suddenly, he would have preffered Markowski...


	11. Broken

Nearby, a soldier - this one named Thompson - approached Ralph. He took note of Vanellope and then looked at her huge-handed friend, indicating that she needed to get off of his shoulder. "She needs to be screened as well," he explained.

The wrecker's brows furrowed as he shook his head. "Don't worry about her. Focus on me," he said, his tone conveying that he wasn't budging on his decision. Vanellope wasn't going anywhere - not with the soldiers stomping around like a stampede of wild rhinos. She was staying on his shoulder where she wouldn't get trampled.

"Yeah, space-cadet._ I ain't even sick!_" The president proclaimed, pointing to herself proudly and leaning back on Ralph's shoulder. "I'm just here for moral support. So, just do your thing, and I'll sit here and laugh." The girl stated, with a smirk, reaching down and patting the wrecker's oversized shoulder in mocking comfort.

For once, Ralph appreciated Vanellope's snark. More than that, though, he appreciated the miffed look the soldier wore as he glanced at the cheeky girl and then reluctantly returned his attention forward. When he was asked to open his mouth, the large man obeyed and parted his lips. Something that could have easily been considered a thermometer was set onto his tongue, only it was much too big and cylinder-like to be a temperature taking tool.

"Thifth doethn't tasthe good," he spoke around the probe, his voice muffled and odd-sounding. The soldier said nothing and continued to await the results that were currently calculating on the tool. Soon enough, the device was removed and then silently read. Curious, Ralph asked: "So, what's the damage?"

"That's confidential," Thompson stated, slipping the probe into a slot in his armor and stepping back.

"_Confidential_? What do you mean 'confidential'?" the wrecker demanded, sounding offended. "You stuck that thing in _my_ mouth, pal, so I deserve some kind of explanation."

"Negatory. Further analysis is needed before an official report can be released." And with that, he marched off, leaving a dumbfounded Ralph behind.

_'Confidential'?_ The girl raised an irritated eyebrow and wrinkled her nose in distaste. This was _Ralph's_ problem. He had every right to know what was going on with him and his friends! She had the right mind to tell this overdressed exterminator off for it too! That is, before he marched off to be with his squad mates without another word.

Vanellope sat upon Ralph's shoulder, her irritation clearly evident alongside Ralph's dumbfounded expression."Pfft! What a moron," she grumbled, hunching her shoulders and folding her arms in front of herself. After a moment, she spoke up again. "Ah well, who needs him? Amiright? We'll just get Sarge to tell us what's going on," she uncrossed her arms and leaned back slightly to pat her larger friend on the shoulder again. "Ya know, after she's not all 'serious' on us," she smirked a bit, leaning back casually on his shoulder now and glancing over to the sergeant.

Felix on the other hand, wasn't having such an easy time staying calm.

But his 8-bit heart was truly gripped with anxiety when the voice of his wife rung out and ordered the soldier in front of him to move out. He took a shaky, steadying breath as her figure moved into his peripheral vision. Suddenly, he would have much rather preferred Markowski. But that was only because of the look in her eyes when he cast a tentative glance up at her. It was all business. And her tone of voice made his heart plummet.

"_Tammy–_" he began, unsure of how to continue. There was so much he wanted to say to her at that moment. Like how he was sorry for keeping her in the dark for so long, and how he hadn't wanted her to worry – but he figured that this wasn't the place to deal with all that. So instead, he swallowed those words, and glanced at the Nicelanders once again with fretful eyes, before looking back to her. "They don't know I'm sick…" he told her in a hushed tone, hoping that she would understand.

A fresh sting spread in her chest at his whispered words. "That doesn't surprise me. Since you're practically a professional at keeping things to yourself," she remarked coldly, and before he could squeeze in a comment, she inserted the probe into his mouth.

The advanced piece of technology beeped here and there before it signaled its readiness with a mechanic shift. Retracting the tool, she studied the results and then capped the evidence for further analysis at the lab; it was clear, however, that she hadn't liked what she'd seen.

But now wasn't the time for that. She had a job to do.

The sergeant looked at her men and noticed that they all seemed finished with their inspections. "Assume formation! We're heading over to _Street Fighter_ next." The soldiers fell back into their original two lines and prepared to depart. Tamora joined them and, together, they moved out without another word, leaving Felix to stare after her in a numb state of shock.

The movement of the Nicelanders suddenly caught his attention, and he snapped out of his stupor long enough to see their tired, miserable, grumpy (in Gene's case), and disturbed faces walking almost silently back towards the apartment. It was clear that all they wanted to do was get home and pretend that the recent invasion of their game had never happened.

He couldn't stand to see them like that - and it was right then that the weight of the day crashed down on him. Everything that had happened that day rushed through his mind in an unpleasant wave accompanied by the annoying static that refused to stop in his head.

Try as he might, he couldn't think of a way to fix this. In fact, everything he did to _try_ and make the situation better, only ended up making it worse.

Seeing nothing else he could do, he sat on the edge of the tram platform and put his head in his hands. If anything, that might get the ringing in his ears to stop, though it didn't seem to.


	12. Keep Your Chin Up

**Hi there, folks! I want to apologize for taking so long to update. I was caught up in the hassle of finishing the semester, and some family matters. Expect updates to be more frequent and regular from this point on.**

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Ralph hadn't been sorry to see any of the soldiers leave. He even lifted up a hand and waved at their retreating backs, just to convey a 'good riddance' on his personal behalf. Vanellope followed his example by crossing her arms smugly across her chest and sticking her tongue out. Now that the peace and quiet of Niceland had been restored, they could all rest easy until Sarge (or whomever) decided to explain things a little better. For the time being, though, he figured that they could…

And that was when he noticed Felix.

The poor guy looked awful - like he'd just given up. Ralph glanced at Vanellope on his shoulder and then tilted his head in the fixer's direction. He didn't say anything, but his message was clear: '_He needs his friends._'

With that in mind, he walked over to where Felix sat and stood nearby. He honestly wished he was better at these kind of things, but three decades of social awkwardness left him exponentially inexperienced when it came to cheering someone up. Nevertheless, he felt that he could have least _tried_ to help his coworker out, just because seeing a sad Felix was the most depressing thing in the world.

"None of this is your fault, you know." He said, hoping that what he was saying would provide some kind of comfort. "I know you feel responsible since you're the title character, but c'mon, Felix. This is out of all of our hands." He was blanking fast, so he tried another topic. "And Sarge'll come around eventually, so you shouldn't be too beat up about that either."

At Ralph's words, a muffled laugh came through Felix's hands and he let them drop to rest across his knees, slouching forward slightly.

"You know you're just as much a part of this game as I am," he told his friend, though kept his gaze fixed forward. He heaved a heavy sigh. "I just don't know what to do anymore, Ralph. We _still_ don't know what's going on, and by the looks of things, everyone's just getting worse." He glanced up towards the wrecker, worry clearly evident on his face. "I don't mean to be a naysayer, but what if something bad happens?" He didn't even want to think about it.

Ralph felt a wave of apprehension was over him. This was a topic he didn't wish to discuss in front of Vanellope - just because he didn't want to worry the kid - but there wasn't much he could do now that she'd heard Felix ask the question.

"Then… then I guess we'll have to deal with it," he replied, reaching up to scratch into his hair. "We've faced bigger problems before, so we can face this, too." He lowered his arm and then heaved a heavy sigh of his own. "We're not that bad yet. So long as we can still _think clearly_ we'll be able to get through this."

Felix seemed to be considering Ralph's words. He sat up a little straighter and nodded in silence for a moment. "I suppose you're right." He finally agreed, repositioning his cap and allowing a small grin to come to his face. "Thanks, brother."

Maybe he _had_ been worrying too much. He'd been guilty of doing that before when things seemed to get out of control; and once again, he found himself more than grateful to have friends like Ralph and Vanellope to help get him back into the swing of things. Things would get better. But he still couldn't shake the anxiety that came with having no clue what to do. That, and Tamora's last sentence to him kept replaying in his mind.

_'… you're practically a professional at keeping things to yourself…'_

"Darn right, he's right!" Vanellope punctuated, "You guys have toughed out worse stuff and came out without a scratch! What's a measly little virus got against you?" She crossed her arms and put on a cheeky grin of her own. "You'll see. All we gotta do now is wait for Sarge to get back… unless you've got another plan cookin' in that empty noggin' of yours." The racer taunted Ralph, if only to get rid of some the residual tension.

Ralph was pleased to see that Felix was perking up. Maybe all he _had_ needed was a pep-talk. Unfortunately, the wrecker's satisfaction with cheering up his friend didn't last very long, because Princess Pain-in-the-Butt was giving him sass. He turned his head and looked at the whippersnapper, having fallen into her teasing trap.

"Ooh. You're lucky I'm not feeling my best, kid. Otherwise I'd send you packing on the tram," he told her, even though he wasn't actually serious. He just needed to say _something_ in rebuttal.

But Vanellope was right. All they could really do was wait around for Sarge to get back and relay any news. But geez, who knew how long _that_ would take? The soldiers seemed set on checking in on every single game in the arcade. Even if they were speedy about it, it would probably be a few hours until she came back.

They needed something to do.

"It's not much, but you guys can come over to my place," he offered, gesturing to the mountain of bricks that rested about a hundred or so feet away. His shack may not have been an apartment building, but he'd built it himself. The home was plenty big enough for him, which meant that it would be more than big enough to accommodate Vanellope and Felix.

"Hah! Yes!" The little president proclaimed, leaning forward on Ralph's shoulder in excitement. Not only did she like the idea of going into Ralph's house (she hadn't been there since the previous night, after all), but she liked the idea of doing something _normal_ while all this unpleasant business was going on.

Sarge was taking care of it, and if she knew anything about the Sarge, it was that she was completely and utterly thorough. Especially when it came to protecting people. It was her duty, after all.

The young girl resisted the urge to snicker.

"I'd offer to race you two there, if I didn't already know you'd both lose." Vanellope couldn't help but throw in another taunt, before suddenly kicking both her feet against Ralph's large shoulder and pointed eagerly in the direction of his house. "Onward, steed!"

"Hey, hey. Easy on the merchandise," Ralph remarked, annoyance lacing his voice as he started forward.

At this Felix couldn't hold back a laugh as he got back to his feet.

"I'm right behind you," he said with a smile.


	13. Friends

**Hi there! In celebration of today being the 1 year anniversary of the fandom (apparently the first trailer was released a year ago today), I've decided to upload 2 chapters! Stay tuned for the second one a little later. **

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Ralph's place wasn't anything special in his eyes: There was a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. The basics, really, since he was the only one inhabiting the shack.

But Felix was impressed by the tiny house nonetheless. All his life, Ralph had been known because of his ability to destroy things, but lately, he'd been surprising a lot of people at just what he was capable of.

"Make yourself at home, Felix. And _you_," the wrecker paused, reaching up to grab Vanellope off of his shoulder and set her on the floor. "Try not to break anything this time, alright?" He'd already lost a few things due to the racer's hyperactivity, and he didn't feel like cleaning up another mess.

"Oh yeah, like you're one to talk." Vanellope crossed her arms as she was placed onto the floor, and hopped up onto a large couch that was in the living room. Another reason she liked visiting his game was that everything was pretty much made for someone of her size - apart from everything in Ralph's house. So she would always get great amusement by being dwarfed by his 'massive' furniture.

While his friends got settled in, Ralph headed into the kitchen to fetch them all something to drink. He didn't have much to offer, but he figured some apple juice couldn't hurt. The wrecker was mid-pour when his head decided it was done being cooperative; it pulsed angrily, causing him to halt in his actions and take a second to let the unpleasantness pass.

When it did, he exhaled the sharp breath he'd taken in and finished up with the drinks. He strongly hoped that whatever virus was wreaking havoc on Niceland was curable, because those random bursts of pain were _not_ fun.

After a moment, Vanellope's voice broke the silence once again. "You doing ok in there, slowpoke?" The little girl questioned, leaning over in her seat slightly to try and sneak a peek into the other room.

Ralph appeared shortly after Vanellope's comment, carrying three cups in the palm of one hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting, your _Majesty_," he joked, complete with a sarcastic bow. He handed one of the cups - the smallest one - to the girl and then headed over to hand Felix his before plunking himself into an oversized armchair.

Vanellope held onto the cup with both hands and brought it to her mouth, tipping it back and drinking a little bit of the juice with a satisfied, '_ah!_'. It was good. Could use a little more sugar though.

"Thank you, Ralph." Felix nodded towards his friend and cup and drank from it a little. It was nice to just sit back and relax after all that had happened. Though the silence threatened to send him back into thought, and that was something he was trying to avoid for the time being…

Glancing around the tiny home, his line of sight caught on the nearby medals that had been hung up on his wall and he smiled into his drink at the sight. He might have had a ton of the things, but Ralph's actually held real, true meaning. He'd really had to work hard, and take real risks to get them.

A sudden flare-up of soreness had Felix reaching up to rub at his head in discomfort, and though the sensation wasn't overwhelming, it was uncomfortable and left a lingering pulse in his head. Whatever was going on, he hoped they got some answers soon.

He cleared his throat and decided to fill the silence that had fallen over the room.

"So what did you two get up to last night?" Was all he could think to ask.

"What _didn't_ we do, kid?" he asked, smiling in the racer's direction. "Let's see. After Tapper's we came back here and _tried_ to play a board game, but _somebody_―" He coughed here, but it wasn't due to his sickness. It was to emphasize the "somebody" part of his statement."―kept changing the rules." The big guy shrugged and sipped his apple juice. "But it was fun, I guess."

"Hey, it's not my fault you can't follow simple instructions!" The little girl raised her glass forward to gesture to the wrecker with a large grin, recalling the previous night. They had done quite a lot, and she'd had a great time doing it - despite the fact that Ralph kept struggling over the newly imposed 'rules' that she'd laid down. Still though, if anything, that made the whole thing funnier.

She lifted her drink once again and snickered into it, recalling something else that had happened. "You shoulda seen it," she addressed Felix through her giggling, "I actually managed to get him to run a lap around the house during the 'bonus round'; but Captain Clumsy over here kept tripping up!" She pointed to Ralph again, breaking out into full laughter now at the memory.

Ralph looked half-annoyed, half-amused at the recollection of the previous evening. "Yeah, well. Maybe I wouldn't have tripped so much if there weren't so many obstacles involved," he countered, shaking his head. What the tiny president had failed to mention was that during his lap he'd also had to hop a bit on one leg, and then do a roll once he reached a certain point.

It had been a good night.

As things began to descend into silence once again, the wrecker found himself feeling far sleepier than he anticipated. He finished off his drink, set down the glass, and made himself a bit more comfortable. He heard Vanellope yawn and would have made a 'past your bedtime' comment, but he ended up catching the contagious bodily function and yawned himself.

"Man, I'm beat," he announced, reaching up to swipe at the moisture that had gathered in his eyes from the yawn. "Feel free to do whatever, Felix. I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to leave this chair." Mostly because after a long day it was just the best thing ever. That _and_ he was super comfy.

If there was anything done right in Ralph's house, it was the chairs. They had to be the comfiest, softest chairs that Vanellope had ever sat in; and that was in competition with a hollowed out giant marshmallow. And she, like her larger companion, was pretty tuckered out from the days events. Being the first to finish her drink, she had plenty of time to settle herself into the comfy spot. Her eyes started to grow heavy, and soon enough she leaned over and fell against the comfy cushion, fast asleep.

Ralph was quick to follow, and soon enough it was just Felix left alone in the house. For a moment, he just sat there, kicking his feet absentmindedly against the large couch as he finished off his drink. But being in Ralph's house when he wasn't entirely 'there' did feel a little awkward. So soon the little hero pushed himself off of the couch, and quickly went to the kitchen to place his cup on the counter, before opening the front door and quietly slipping out.

He glanced around Niceland, and if he hadn't known any better, he would have said that everything seemed fine. Apart from the fact that there was basically no activity outside at that moment. Usually there were at least one or two characters wandering around the grounds. But all-in-all, it still seemed very peaceful. Nothing was out of place. It was still quaint and quiet, and the soft sound of crickets could still be heard. Everything seemed normal, and that helped to put him at ease somewhat.

Taking a seat on the steps leading to Ralph's house, Felix just decided to sit there and relax. He certainly didn't want to go back to his and Tamora's home, and he didn't exactly feel like seeing the Nicelanders at that moment either. He knew there wasn't much more he could do for them anyways, until he knew more about what was happening. Though aside from the ache in his head that would occasionally spike up, and a feeling of fatigue, he'd say not much else was wrong.

Except for fact that Tamora was still missing from the picture.

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**(Tamora's back next chapter.)**


	14. Lesson Learned

**This is the second chapter that was uploaded today, in the event that you missed the first one :)**

**Happy anniversary, WiR fandom!**

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Much to Tamora Calhoun's dismay, there was a total of three games infected in the arcade: _Fix-It Felix Jr., Frogger, and Street Fighter II._ She had hoped that the only ones carrying the virus were the characters of Niceland, but so wasn't the case.

It was bad enough that there was one at all.

Following their inspections and various tests, the soldiers returned to _Hero's Duty_ and began their analysis of the collected samples. Since she wasn't a doctor, all the sergeant could do was stand around and wait while the scientists went to work figuring out what exactly they were dealing with.

The answer came sometime later when it was revealed that the virus was a strain they'd never seen before. It wasn't curable, and it wasn't preventable.

The bad news had her slamming her fist into the nearest wall - an act that bruised her knuckles beneath her gloves. Though the situation looked hopeless, she knew that those who worked in the lab wouldn't give up. They'd keep trying until they secured an antidote, or at least a method to get rid of the virus altogether.

With the verdict now clear in her mind, she returned to her husband's game a few hours short of sunrise. She didn't bother changing out of her armour, since she planned to relay the news and nothing more. She wasn't in the mood for talking, or goofing around, or even being remotely affectionate.

Relying on her cruiser for transport, she entered _Fix-It Felix Jr._ and headed for their home. Though, in order to get there she needed to pass Ralph's place, and upon doing that she was able to see the very individual she was looking for sitting outside.

Well, that made things easier.

Felix noticed the familiar humming of his wife's cruiser echoing through the tunnel long before it was visible. He looked towards the entrance with cautious curiosity, but when it was confirmed to be Tamora he immediately tensed and straightened up. He brought his head down towards his shoulders in apprehension. His hands gripped his knees nervously as she approached, and when she eventually glided to a stop and stepped off of her cruiser, he bit his lip and forced himself to look up at her. He still had no idea what he was supposed to say to her.

Her boots slid over the grassy earth as she approached the small hero on the porch. She had managed to calm down slightly from her earlier agitation, but she couldn't quite stop her voice from coming out as stern as it did.

"This virus isn't like any we've seen," she began. "It adapts based on its host, so anyone infected will experience similar symptoms up until it reaches its full potential." Tamora wasn't quite sure what would happen after that, since it was different for everyone. "I've got my men still working on it in the lab, but as of right now…" She paused, clenching her sore fist. "We're at a standstill."

On top of everything he had been worried about, _that_ had not reassured him in the least.

_Like nothing they had seen? At a standstill?_

That only translated into one thing in his mind, and that was that they didn't know how to fix this mess.

It took him a moment to finally find his words.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner." He told her, rubbing his knees. "The last thing I'd want to do is upset you..." His nervousness picked up at that moment, and he found himself struggling not to stumble over his own words as he tried to explain himself. "That's why I – I mean, I meant to tell you, but I couldn't do it by myself - so, I wanted to get Ralph first." He had promised to tell her, after all; and he had betrayed her trust, as far as he was concerned. "I can't tell ya how sorry I am."

No matter what way Tamora looked at it, Fix-It was a mess. It took years of training to be able to remain indifferent when a soldier suffered an emotional confession of any kind, but watching someone she loved do it, and with such _genuine regret_…well, it would have been a lie to say that it didn't chew her up a little on the inside.

Still, her face was a perfect picture of seriousness, in spite of the cold, unpleasant feeling she felt lingering in her chest.

She knew Felix well, which meant that she knew how terrible he felt about keeping her in the dark. Her former mentality regarding the brief visit began to change, in spite of her desire to remain on schedule.

She might have been stronger if their friends were around, but since it was just him, looking sadder than a lost puppy, she felt her iron defences beginning to break. Exhaling, she stepped up and then sat down beside him.

He'd made her soft. So ridiculously _soft_.

Her armoured arm wrapped around him, pressing his small body into her side. He wasted no time in returning the gesture with both arms, hugging onto her as if his life depended on it. "You can't keep a virus under wraps, Fix-It," she said, keeping her gaze on the scenery in front of them. "And while that's a serious violation of my code, I know that you meant well." He always did, no matter what the circumstance was. "You, Wreck-It, Schweetz… I'm looking out for you guys. In order for me to do my duty, you have to do yours as well."

He nodded almost immediately.

"I know. I will."

No more keeping things from her. Even though he didn't want her to worry, he had to remind himself that _not_ telling her might actually hinder an opportunity they had to learn more about the virus. It was tough, but if he _did_ happen to get worse, he'd have to swallow his apprehension and be the bearer of bad news. As much as he didn't want to.

A great source of her anger, she knew, was born not from a poor choice of action on her husband's part, but from her own worry. She'd lost someone to the physical embodiment of a virus once before. She wouldn't endure that again. Perhaps it was this dark delving into her past that had her suddenly gripping onto Felix; she pulled him onto her lap and held onto his form, cradling him against the front of her suit with both of her arms.

She _**couldn't **_lose him too.

Felix couldn't stop the smile from appearing on his face at this action. She really had forgiven him. He once again found his hands moving forward to intertwine with hers, allowing himself to relax a little. "I love you, Tammy."

Even if this day just seemed to be one bad thing after another - at least this had worked out.

But it wasn't fair. She shouldn't have felt better when he grabbed onto or hand, or _especially_ when he said those three little words that had her heart thundering beneath her chest plate. Though they were married and had been for a while now, she didn't think she'd ever get used to hearing him say that to her - half because she'd managed to convince herself that she didn't need someone's love, half because it made her so stupidly happy she didn't know what to do with herself.

Her voice was a shade softer when she replied. "I know you do, Fix-It."

She didn't repeat the statement back, but it wasn't because she didn't feel the same. Instead, she conveyed her love with a firm kiss that she pressed against his cheek. She would have preferred to do so on his mouth, where such an action belonged, but with a virus going around it was best not to risk contamination, even if it only seemed that the older games were the ones prone to it.

As if suddenly just realizing where they were, she looked back over her shoulder and glanced at the door. Things were awfully quiet behind them - at least if Schweetz was involved. Then it occurred to her. "They're sleeping like a couple of babies, aren't they?"

"That they are, ma'am." He said, a smile on his face. He couldn't get a good view of the door from his current position, so he just took to leaning back against Tamora's armour and looking towards the nearby apartment. "They couldn't keep their eyes open." He recalled with a chuckle. "Busy day, I guess."

"Not busy enough if you're still hanging in there," Tamora replied, removing one of her arms from around his tiny waist.

She then reached up and took off his cap, so as to idly stroke her gloved fingers through his sandy-brown hair. How the strands stayed so neat and perfect all the time was beyond her, since he was inarguably active on a daily basis. Maybe it just came with the whole 'good guy' package. Yeah, that must have been it.

"You could probably use some shuteye yourself, soldier."

If Felix was being honest, he _had_ grown increasingly tired as the day wore on. Not so much that it had affected his performance at all, but it had started to catch up to him around the same time Ralph had dozed off. He'd had too much on his mind to even consider _trying_ to get some shut-eye back then. But now, the idea seemed a lot more inviting.

"I probably could." He agreed, letting his head rest against her armour and allowing his eyes to close. The calming effect of her fingers stroking through his hair and the relief that came with them making up made him realize at that moment just how tired he really was. "I bet you could too..." He told her lazily.

Sleep never once crossed Tamora's mind. She knew that it was required at some point, because even the toughest of characters needed rest, but she'd been far too distracted to even bother closing her eyes, let alone taking a second to conk out. Such luxuries were meant for civilians and _not_ the soldiers that protected them.

A few minutes later, she realized that Felix had fallen asleep.

Protectively, she cradled him against her. Then, grabbing his hat in her free hand, she stood up and began to head to their home.

His size made transportation easy, since he didn't weigh very much at all. She was careful as she hopped aboard her cruiser and took him the remaining distance. As much as she wanted to, the sergeant wouldn't be able to spend the night with him, due to her presence being required back in _Hero's Duty_.

As she deposited Felix onto the bed, she leaned over and kissed his forehead as gingerly as her lips were able to. "Rest up, Fix-It. You've got a busy day ahead of you." She stood back up and turned to make her exit, though not before adding. "We _all_ do."


	15. Investigation

The morning following that night had not seen much in the way of improvements. Vanellope had woken up at some point before opening, and practically glitched her way all the way through Game Central Station to get back to her game. Apparently she had overslept, and was in a panic about hosting the 'random roster race'. She had managed to leave with enough time to spare, but not before muttering under her breath how she'd wished that someone could fill in for her.

The workday proceeded much as the previous one had, with Ralph and Felix toughing their way through it, and the Nicelanders being forced to schedule 'breaks' between each of themselves so they didn't get too tuckered out. But it was obvious that there had been no improvement in the ways of overall health. In fact, Felix could have sworn he'd felt worse than the day before; and he wasn't sure how long it would be until the Nicelanders wised up to his actual condition.

The day following that had gone on much similarly. Waking up, finding no improvement, and forcing themselves to work. It was obvious that people were beginning to get worn thin. It even seemed to be getting to people's heads in some instances - it was affecting their behavior. Or that was his impression of it, anyways. Gene did seem to be a bit snippier than usual. And he had even found himself getting somewhat frustrated with the constant static in his ears, and the more frequent spikes of pressure in his head. Though he chalked it up to the simple stress they all must have been feeling. No one wanted to be forced to exert themselves when they felt under the weather, after all.

The end of the workday brought great relief; and usually, when everyone would have been happy to go out and enjoy the rest of their evening, the pattern had begun to form of everyone simply lugging themselves back to their own spots to rest or relax. It wasn't a sight the fixer liked to see; and even more-so, he didn't like the fact that he had been convinced to not go visit _Hero's Duty_ like he normally did after work.

Not until they knew more about this virus, anyways.

He'd been informed that their game hadn't been the only one infected, and that brought about the very real possibility that they might have been contagious. Or that it was spreading on its own.

As much as he wanted to, they were stuck there until further notice; and that was one of the toughest things. Not just for him, but for Ralph as well. He knew that the big guy was probably worried sick about Vanellope, despite the fact that the girl had seemed just about as lively as ever the last time they had seen her.

They could still relate in their worry, and that was just one of the reasons Felix found himself in the larger man's company more often than not lately.

As soon as the day had ended, and everyone had moved on to do their own things, Felix pushed open the front doors to the apartment and tried to stop his head from swimming. His face had grown uncomfortably hot, and for a moment, he entertained the idea of joining Ralph in the cool-looking mud puddle - before quickly shaking that thought from his head.

"Ralph!" The fixer spoke, coming to a stop in front of him and attempting to look cheerful. "Need some help?" He offered, though he was sure he wouldn't have been able to help Ralph up even in his best condition.

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice a hoarse rendition of its former strong self. Screaming his wrecking lines all day with an aching throat wasn't the best idea, and it left his voice close to shot. He looked at the fixer, and were it not for the gray sleepless smudges beneath his eyes and the unhealthily pale complexion of his face, he _could_ have appeared normal. "Good job today."

"Thanks, brother." Felix said somewhat absentmindedly, just as the ringing in his head spiked up and he moved to rub his ear in annoyance. "You too." He added a moment later as the two began to walk.

If one thing was clear, it was just how much worse everyone's conditions were getting. It was clear that the health of the people of Niceland was deteriorating fast, and Ralph especially worried Felix. The larger man had proven himself to be quite resilient on more than one occasion. His whole life practically. So seeing him obviously struggling to push himself up from the mud, and even to stay balanced had Felix knitting his brow in concern.

As far as he was concerned, everyone deserved a medal after their continued performance during this whole virus ordeal. It wasn't easy; and it was obvious that everyone was starting to feel the strain. Or _had_ been feeling the strain for a few days now, and were just starting to get fed up.

He could only hope that more news about the virus would be brought to them soon.

"I'm not sure how much longer until the others figure me out though." He told his friend with a forced smile as he nervously wrung his hands together. That had been one of his growing concerns over the past few hours. It was getting more difficult to not show signs of discomfort, and if everyone else's conditions were any indication, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be looking in top-shape either. "How are you holding up?"

When asked how he was fairing, Ralph lifted up a hand and tilted it side-to-side, as if saying that he was 'so-so'. He was probably a bit below that, actually, but he didn't want Felix to think he was incapable of doing his job. Or worse, for the motherly fixer to suggest that he "rest" or something. No thanks.

"Whenever you wanna come clean about the virus, just let me know and I'll go with you," he said, glancing down at his short friend. "At this point I don't think the Nicelanders would freak out as much, just because they can barely panic as it is."

Coming clean to everyone. That idea provided both benefits and setbacks.

On one hand, it would be a great weight lifted off his shoulders (and not to mention, his conscience), he wouldn't have to act fine anymore when all he really wanted to do was sit in a dark room to try and get his headache to go away, and the others _may_ have even been understanding.

On the other hand, they might be furious. Or be left hopeless, which was an even bigger concern. And he always hated it when he had to be the one to deliver bad news of any kind. So for that reason alone, he had refrained from saying anything and had just sucked it up.

Now though, it was beginning to make less and less sense that he _wouldn't_ have been affected. Though the Nicelanders hadn't seemed to ask any questions.

"I'll probably need your help with that... again." He sighed.

Their walking eventually led them to the large lake that rested east of the apartment building. The water was always warm for swimming, but Ralph didn't feel up to it at the moment. In fact, he didn't feel up to being on his feet anymore either. He settled against one of the blocky trees and sat down on the grass. Dizziness was steadily returning to mess with him, and he didn't like it one bit.

As Ralph sat against one of the nearby trees, Felix kneeled down by the lake and splashed some of the pixilated water onto his face. "My head is _baking_." He sat back and laughed despite the situation, then glanced back over to his friend."I sure hope we get some more news soon." Ralph didn't look like he felt all that much better; and he was certain that they both desperately wanted to know what was happening with the other half of their quartet.

As Felix utilized the lake, Ralph had taken to closing his eyes. He focused on the peaceful sounds of Niceland and tried to pretend that everything in his body _wasn't_ hurting as badly as it was. At that point, he would have fallen off a building twenty times in a row if it meant he'd be fully healthy again, just because he was sick and tired of being―he coughed against his hand―_sick and tired_.

"You and me both," he replied, slowly opening his eyes. "For all we know the whole arcade could be infected by now."

Which wasn't a pleasant thought at all. Kids were already complaining how some of the games (_Fix-It Felix Jr._ included) were running a bit slower than normal. The small players grew frustrated with the consistent lagging and reported it to Mr. Litwack, who, Ralph had noticed, became concerned. It was doubtful that the man would have the entire place unplugged, but if they all didn't show improvement soon…

Who knows what could have happened?

It had been brought to Felix's attention that there seemed to be a trend with this virus. It did only seem to be the older games that had been infected. He'd figured that it was just the type of virus - perhaps a more simplified one that wouldn't have been able to mess with the newer game's coding, but the thought of it actually spreading to even _more_ games was unsettling.

If it kept up its pattern, he got solace from the fact that _Hero's Duty_ was basically the newest game in the place, so with any luck Tamora would be safe for a while. Or so he hoped. Vanellope on the other hand, while her game wasn't _too _technologically dated, her game itself was what could be considered 'old'.

He was sure Ralph was worried.

Being separated from the 'outside world', with no new news on what was developing out there was unnerving. Especially when they had no clue as to the status of their friends. Maybe everything was descending into chaos in Game Central Station, and even in the other games, and they were none the wiser.

Felix cast a worried glance over to the far-away tunnel leading out of their game and pushed himself back to his feet.

"Maybe we should take a look…" He offered, pointing cautiously over his shoulder at the tunnel as he turned back around to face Ralph. They had been told not to leave, but not knowing how everyone was doing was making him listless. "We haven't heard from Tamora or Vanellope in almost two days! I've got to tell ya, I'm getting a bit worried."

The larger male arched an eyebrow. For Felix to even _suggest_ breaking the rules and going against what had been instructed was a big deal. Then again, it was nice to see his friend rebel a bit - even if he wasn't really "rebelling" at all. More like testing the waters because he couldn't stay on shore anymore.

"I'm with you, Felix," Ralph agreed, looking at the tunnel as well. "It's better if we're safe so we don't have to be sorry."

In all reality, though, he'd had enough of waiting around and hoping that everything was hunky-dory, when it could have very well been in shambles.

Ralph had to admit that Felix was a pro at keeping it together. Granted, the little guy had his rare moments where he lost his head (if their reunion in King Candy's "fungeon" said anything about that) but for the most part it was clear that the chipper fixer was able to keep his concern tightly packaged under an impressive layer of self-control. Good thing, too.

Between the two of them _someone_ needed to maintain a piece of themselves, should the entire predicament go haywire, or should one of them legitimately lose it. Which, out of the two, was more likely to be Ralph.

With a grunt, the wrecker lifted himself to his feet and used the tree he was leaning against to help him stand. Needless to say the poor pixelated piece of landscape tipped over, causing his eyes to widen. "Uh…" Quickly, he righted the tree as best he could before slowly pulling his hands away in a cautious manner. The tree remained upright for a good three seconds before tilting at an angle.

Felix's own hands flew up to his mouth to stifle a giggle as the righted tree stubbornly tilted to the side once again. Even when Ralph was sick, he was still a master at his job.

"Let's go," Ralph told him, heading towards the tram. "We'll just have a look in Game Central Station. If everything looks okay we'll come back." And if it didn't…they were getting some answers. No matter _what_ anyone said.

"Oh, I'm with you." The smaller man said with an amused smile, following after his larger friend and towards the tunnel leading to Game Central Station. He positioned himself in the tram, and it jerked into motion towards the hub. If anything, this would give them closure. He could only hope that everything was actually alright, and that they wouldn't have to do more 'investigating'.


	16. Discovery

Hi there! Trying to update this more often, but it's proving trickier than I'd first imagined. I do have the next chapter all finished up though, so that one won't be too much more of a wait! I truly appreciate all of you who have stuck around for this story. I promise you, it starts to get intense within the next couple chapters. Expect Ralph/Vanellope fluff next chapter.

* * *

Normally, Ralph hated the ride to _or_ from Game Central Station. The tram wasn't made for someone his size, so squeezing into the little compartment was hardly any "fun". Clearly, he was never meant to leave the game since their programers hadn't deemed it necessary to construct a cart big enough for him to fit. Not that that mattered now, since he'd ridden it a boatload of times. When they arrived, he struggled to free himself from the tiny crevice and stand up again.

The cool air of the station wasn't warm like in Niceland, and it had a shudder running down the big guy's spine. He was sure it wouldn't have bothered him had he been in better shape, but the place may as well have been powered by an ice cube. Ignoring the change in temperature, he walked into the main area to see what awaited them.

Upon getting there, however…

"You've gotta be kidding me…"

…there was absolutely _no one_ around.

"… What happened?" The fixer asked with obvious worry as the two ventured forward.

The place was entirely deserted, as if the station had never once been open to begin with. Familiar faces were nowhere to be seen, along with the usual commotion of the characters. This didn't make sense.

"I don't like this," Ralph stated, looking from empty entryway to empty entryway. There was something eerie about seeing Game Central Station without anyone in it; he couldn't recall there being a time where it wasn't busy - even during arcade hours. There was always _someone_ hanging around.

An appearance of electric blue light that was followed by the physical presence of the Surge Protector suddenly appeared in front of them, startling the larger male. Felix gave off a startled yelp and jumped backwards towards Ralph, holding a hand to his chest.

The glowing man regarded the pair with a bored look and then adjusted his glasses. "Sorry, sirs, but I'm gonna have to ask you to return to your game. The station is closed until further notice."

Ralph's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean 'the station is closed'?"

The Surge Protector glanced down at his clipboard as he replied. "There's been a quarantine issued. Almost every game is infected. We can't have the virus spreading any more than it already has, so if you could go back to your game and―"

"Almost _EVERY_ game?!" the wrecker interrupted, raising his voice; it echoed in the empty space of the station, but he could have cared less.

"Sir, there's no need to shout."

But Ralph wasn't listening.

He was staring at _Sugar Rush_ with a panicked expression on his face. In his head the decision was already made, and no paper-pushing, sorry-excuse-for-security was going to tell him otherwise.

As the two argued, Felix's concerned gaze looked over and rested on the entrance to _Hero's Duty._ Could Tammy's game have possibly been one of the ones infected? He certainly hoped not. She'd yet to let a bug of any sort get the better of her; and he seriously doubted she had it in her to let something like this get her down… but then _why_ hadn't they heard anything?

Without another word, Ralph suddenly charged forward, shoving the Surge Protector aside and taking off towards the candy-coated land. He may not have had much energy left in him, but it was enough to keep him on course as he swiftly crossed the terminal and took the tunnel on foot.

He needed to see Vanellope. He needed to know that she wasn't in pain.

"Ralph, _wait!_" Felix shouted, holding out a hand as if that would somehow get him to listen.

He wasn't going to stop.

Ralph was willing to risk everything when it came to protecting the little racer. Ralph didn't hesitate at all when action needed to be taken. It was more than admirable - it was heroic. Way more heroic than the things that Felix considered himself to do on a daily basis. He certainly would have been proud of his friend right then, if he wasn't overwhelmed with panic.

Looking up towards the Surge Protector in shock for a moment, he shook his head to snap himself out of it and shouted a rushed, "I'm sorry!" back at him as he darted off after his friend and into _Sugar Rush_.

* * *

Ralph didn't stop.

Even when his lungs began burning, even when his legs threatened to give out on him…he kept pushing himself until he reached the middle of the bridge. Once there, however, he was forced to take a break, lest he pass out on the spot from overexertion. He fell to his knees and took in great gulps of air while sputtering and coughing in between. The pulsing in his head was worse than ever, causing him to groan and cradle his skull.

He was barely able to keep his eyes open, but it was a good thing that he did, for if he didn't he wouldn't have been able to see the terrorizing sight that rested ahead of him.

"Oh no…"

The sweet and sugary world of _Sugar Rush_ was not as he'd last remembered it. The scenery was wilted and spoiled, and all the fluorescent colors were less vibrant. He could see from the high elevation of the bridge that the cotton candy clouds were now flattened, droopy masses hanging miserably in the sky. The candied apple trees looked shriveled and unhealthy, and the lollipop forest was cracked and brittle.

The virus had _indeed_ infected the game in its own unique way.

"Kid! _KID!_"

Forcing himself back onto his feet, Ralph continued on his way down the bridge and towards the castle in the distance. The ground literally cracked beneath him as he ran over it, heading for where Vanellope lived. He was terrified. If the game was any indication how the characters were feeling, he could only imagine how rough the racers had it.

They were just _kids_ for crying out loud!

* * *

"Ralph! _Ralph!_ Wait a minute!" Felix called after his colleague, hand still raised out towards him as he tried to catch up. Ralph wasn't showing any signs of slowing down though; and he doubted the intensely-focused man could even hear him at that moment. Even if he had, the chance of him stopping when his best friend was potentially in danger was little to none.

Especially not after the sight that greeted him when the light from the tunnel gave away.

Felix skidded to a halt despite his rush to catch up to Ralph, and his mouth just hung open in shock for a moment as he took in the scenery.

"_Oh my land…_" The fixer breathed out, a pang of disbelief quickly spreading over him and clouding his thoughts as his eyes drifted over to the retreating figure of Ralph.

There was no way he was going to stop now.

Snapping himself out of it, Felix took off after him. He needed to see if Vanellope was alright too; and then, he had to make sure Tamora was.


	17. Together

The castle seemed eerily deserted. The halls were darker than usual, and gave off a cold, shadowy atmosphere whereas normally it would be bright, sunny and cheerful. The candy making up the architecture seemed to have lost its vibrancy, and just sat, dulled, cracked and far from edible-looking.

Vanellope had locked herself away in her room - an area where Ralph and her had spent many hours in the past. Which mainly consisted of her making him do things for her own amusement - though from looking at the room, you wouldn't have been able to tell that a single good time had been had there.

It, like the rest of the castle, was dark. The only light filtering in from a large circular window on the far wall, which seemed to be constructed of some type of now-crumbled cookie.

The girl was tucked deep into her covers - bundled up like, as she would have put it in the past, a homeless lady. She felt absolutely _terrible_. The only indication that anyone was in the room at all was the shivering coming from the sheets, and the occasional sniffle that came from her nose.

Her game _had_ been infected, and there had been nothing they could do about it. She didn't even know how her 'family' was doing. But she hadn't heard word from any of them in nearly two days. For all she knew, the virus could have been twice as bad for them - or worse.

* * *

Ralph skidded to a halt in front of the castle doors, collapsing against them when he got to them. The resulting sound was louder than any knock could have ever been. Darkness ate at the corners of his swimming vision, distorting his sight.

No. _No_. He couldn't let himself pass out. Not before he made sure Vanellope was okay.

Just as he raised his curled fingers to knock, the door opened. Were it not for the fact that he pulled back at the last possible second, he would have fallen inside. As expected, he was greeted by Sour Bill. Like the rest of _Sugar Rush_, he looked just as rundown and faded; there were cracks in his green candy coating, and his natural gloss was severely dulled.

Still, he seemed coherent. At least, coherent enough for Ralph to reach down and pick the little guy up.

"Whh…where is she?" he panted.

Fearing that he would endure a repeat of what had happened in the past (which was something he DID NOT want, for he still had nightmares about Ralph's sandpaper tongue), Sour Bill immediately replied. "President Vanellope is in her chambers."

That's all he needed to know. Releasing the monotone ball, he hurried into the castle and headed for the kid's room. Down long hallways and up winding staircases he went. When he eventually arrived at the large door, he forewent knocking (manners weren't exactly his thing) and slowly creaked it open. He peeked into the dim room and took an anxious step forward.

"_Kid?_ Are you in here?"

A reply only took a moment.

"Ralph!?" She gasped, ripping the covers off of herself and looking with shock towards her clearly-fatigued friend. Her hair was more disheveled than usual, and her voice was scratchy and strained. "_Ralph!_" She cried out, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and slipping off of it. She ignored the rush of dizziness that greeted her with the sudden movement as she took off towards her friend and latched onto his large leg. "What are you doing here!?" She questioned, burying her face against him.

Normally she'd gag at such a display of emotion, but she had been legitimately worried for her friend. She knew that Ralph and everyone in his game had gotten the virus well before they had, and she couldn't help but be relieved to see that he was alright. Or - _was he?_ He looked like he was about to fall over.

"C'mon, stinkbrain." The girl let go of her tight hold on his leg and reached up to close a tiny hand around one of his large fingers before he could answer, tugging him towards her bed so he take what looked like a much needed seat. "Now sit!" She ordered, coughing a little and clambering up onto the bed for herself and shifting over to make room for Ralph to sit on the edge of it. The bed dipped with his weight, but it didn't show any signs of breaking. Hopefully it would hold up, because most things he sat on didn't. "What's happening, Ralph? And why haven't I heard from you in so long!?" The fact that she hadn't heard from anyone, or gotten any word on how to get rid of this virus, had gotten her more nervous than she'd care to admit.

"It's a long story, kid," he began, looking at the tiny ruler. While she wasn't falling apart like her home was, she still looked pretty sick. Heck, she _sounded_ pretty sick, too. But she was okay… thank goodness. "Basically, the whole arcade has the virus. Everyone's being told to keep to their game so it won't spread anymore, but the truth is…" He turned away from her and coughed harshly into a fist before he was able to finish his sentence: "…it's already spread almost everywhere."

Whether he was aware of his actions or not, he reached out and pinched her covers between two of his thick fingers. Then, tugging the sheets, he settled them over Vanellope's lap, covering her. Her hands moved to grip at the sheets, shaking her head and pulling it closer to herself. "Last I heard Sarge and her men were trying to find a cure, or at least figure out where the virus came from, but we haven't heard from her in days either."

Which could have meant that _Hero's Duty_ had been encountering the epidemic as well. Either that or they were planning a course of attack. Nothing was certain anymore.

"Felix and I…" Ralph paused as realization sunk in. He'd left the fixer behind, hadn't he? Some 'friend' he was. "We wanted to check on you." What he really should have said was '_I_ wanted to check on you', but he knew that Felix had been concerned for the miniature president as well. The bad guy sighed out a tight, crackly breath. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, kid. This place looks stale. _Real_ stale."

Vanellope stared up at him for a moment, worry evident in her large eyes.

What if they couldn't get rid of it? The entire arcade, and everyone in it could-

_**No.**_

A look of stubborn determination settled over her; her worried look hardened. They couldn't think like that. They couldn't just give up. Especially not when her game; no - when _everyone_ was in so much trouble.

"Well, _c'mon!_" The girl kicked the covers off of herself and grabbed onto one of Ralph's fingers again in urgency. She tugged on it and moved to slide off of the bed again. "We've gotta go find them then!" She couldn't just sit around anymore. If she did, she was bound to just drive herself crazy. Things had gotten so much worse in such a short period of time, she doubted they could afford to wait around any longer. "Things aren't getting any better with us just waiting around!" She took a moment to cough, "And if the entire arcade really _is_ all messed up, then it won't matter if we game-jump or not!" She raised her voice.

Vanellope's sudden surge of justice was more than Ralph had been expecting. He didn't move when she tugged him, nor did he plan to. As much as he liked her determination and willingness to get to the bottom of things, he wasn't going to let her out of _Sugar Rush_. Not in her current condition, at least. It was one thing if _he_ grew worse, but they couldn't risk the most popular and preferred racer to push herself over the edge.

This was why the wrecker gazed at his best friend with a somewhat saddened look on his face. "Sorry, kid, but I'm not letting you out there," he told her. This wasn't the same scenario as a few days prior, when he'd caved in and let her come along. This was different. This was _serious_. "You need to stay put and rest so you can be in decent-enough shape to race tomorrow. Hate me all you want, but this is how it has to be," he concluded, firming his expression. Now that he knew that the girl wasn't as bad off as he'd originally feared, Ralph felt a bit better about leaving her alone when he eventually had to return to his game. Until then, though, he didn't plan on budging. He'd stay with her until sunrise. Felix would have to make do without him, as much as he didn't like that idea either.

Vanellope on the other hand, wasn't as accepting of her friend's idea. In fact, it made her downright furious.

The girl's arms dropped to her side in shock, and she stared at him, mouth agape for an instance, before coming back to her senses.

"What!? Are you _CRAZY!?_" The girl took a step forward in incredulity. All at once she forgot about the pounding in her head, and the soreness in her throat, as she focused entirely on the large man in front of her. "You can't keep me here! This is MY game!" She shouted, patting her own chest just to emphasize her point. Her voice cracked as she spoke, giving away her emotion. "I've gotta help it! And you guys! I can't just let this stupid thing mess with all of you! And we don't even _KNOW_ how Sarge is!"

Her game was on the verge of becoming a dystopia, _again_, and Ralph wanted her to sit back and do nothing?! Best friend or not, where did he get off keeping her from protecting her own game? Her own friends? She was understandably upset; and it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ralph wasn't going to budge on his position.

"I'm not a baby, Ralph! And I feel _fine!_" She glared up at him, an ill-timed glitch coursed through her at her words, and her little hands closed into shaking fists at her side. She didn't feel fine in the least; and she didn't want to tell him that this 'virus', or whatever it was, was making her glitch act up. "I can take care of myself." She spoke lower now, though this tone was more bitter than angry. After a moment, she was glaring at him again. "Plus you got to leave your game." She shot him an accusing glare.

Rushed footsteps broke the momentary silence in the room, and a few seconds later a gloved hand rested on the doorframe, followed by an out-of-breath Felix. One look in the room however told him that he was interrupting something - and nothing good, by the looks of it. He straightened up a little in shock, deciding to stay quiet; and even debating with himself whether or not he should back out into the hall again. It was a great relief to see that Vanellope was alright, but it was shocking to see the two having an argument. He had never seen these two _really _fight before.

Quickly getting the sense that this was a conversation that was only meant for the two of them, Felix cast a tentative glance towards Ralph, pointing over his shoulder sheepishly to signal that he was going to leave. Ralph would know where he was heading, and by the sounds of it, the two friends needed to be with each other at that moment.

Noticing Felix, Ralph gave the fixer and almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgement before focusing his attention on the racer in front of him. "I know you can take care of yourself. Believe me," he said, getting that particular understanding out there. He debated with his next statement, because it didn't really settle all too well on his tongue; it ended up coming out as a rushed exclamation not three seconds later.

"And I left my game because I was _worried_ about you, okay?!"

The girl froze.

Ralph's gaze snapped elsewhere; he stared at the floor, feeling his stomach twist in response to the unusual swarm of emotions that were overriding his 'bad guy-ness'. He wasn't programmed for these kind of sentimental confessions, and whenever he made them it felt _seriously_ awkward.

The wrecker lifted a few of his fingers and rubbed into his eyes. "I don't expect you to understand, kid, but if there's one thing I hate it's feeling helpless." He huffed out a sigh and then looked at Vanellope again. "Back then, when those Cy-Bugs had you cornered, and all I could do was watch…" He would never forget the image, for it was permanently burned into his memory, along with the twisted voice that, even now, echoed in his ears.

'_Let's watch her die together, shall we?_'

He clenched a fist at the haunting recollection and then tried to hit home with his last sentences. "That's why you can't leave," he stated, and never once had his expression adorned such utter _desperation_. "Because if something bad happens to you, and all I can do is watch again…" He paused, swallowing. "Then this virus may as well end me now."

The girl relaxed in her position and her expression softened at the words. It was obvious that the big guy was protective of her, but to actually hear him _say_ it was an entirely different story. She listened to his heartfelt confession, feeling something twisting in her own chest at the words. She had been upset, but it's not as if she wanted Ralph to be too. After all, he was still her best friend.

The president was silent for a moment, before tilting her head back and groaning loudly.

"_Fine_." She slumped forward with a less-than-pleased look on her face. She couldn't stand to see her friend pour his heart out like that - not that she would want that known. "I'll stay..." She consented, sniffling into her sleeve and crossing her arms. She glared up at him again, though this one was accompanied by a knowing smirk.

Moving forward, she clambered back onto the bed again, and wrapped her tiny arms against his torso as best she could, "But you're not leaving yet either." She told him firmly, pressing her face into his side. "And try not to cry all over me, jelly-baby." She couldn't help but joke to try and ease some of the tension - though she made no move to end the hug.

"Relax, kid. I wasn't planning on going anywhere," he replied, wrapping a long and large arm around the girl's clinging body. It was her second statement, however, that earned a more teasing and less sappy reply. "And yeah, right. _You_ were the one that was about to start the waterworks. Besides, you're snot-nosed enough already without any tears."

Wordlessly, he lifted Vanellope up into the air and held her between his fingers - in the way he would have done when holding a sandwich - while he flopped onto his back; the spongecake mattress squished a little beneath him, but it didn't show any signs of collapsing, which was good. Once comfortable, he lowered the racer to sit on his broad chest while he propped his arms beneath his head.

"Hah! I've never cried a day in my life, Mr. Temper-Tantrum." She took a moment to poke him as she was settled on top of him. There was no way she was going to bring up the time her kart had been destroyed. No one needed to remember that.

Now that things between them had returned to their usual childish jabs, Ralph didn't feel so awkward or out-of-place. If anything, he felt exactly where he was supposed to belong. Minus the 'feeling crummy' part. He had closed both of his eyes since he'd laid down, though one peeked open at Vanellope when she tossed out another teasing phrase.

"And don't even think about wipin' that nose on me. 'Cuz I'd get you back." She said.

He couldn't help but smile.

"Try not to flatter yourself," he replied, removing an arm from beneath his head, so he could poke her on the forehead with the squared edge of a finger. "I only wipe my nose on things that I deem worthy. And you, shorty, _aren't_ worthy."

Vanellope reached up to playfully swat away Ralph's oversized finger.

Despite all that was happening, it was nice to simply lay down and relax with her friend. It made the whole situation seem, just a _little_ bit better. Like it was nothing that they should worry about too much. It almost made everything feel as if it were 'normal'. Which was something she really needed.

Ralph sniffed stuffily. "I guess we can be snot-nosed together."


	18. Infected

Felix had been surprised that he'd made it through the terminal to _Hero's Duty_ at all, without being stopped by the Surge Protector. Granted, he had been running pretty fast. Or maybe the blue man had other duties to attend to at that moment. But that wasn't important.

He _had_ to see Tamora. Make sure she was ok. If the condition of _Sugar Rush_ was any indication as to how bad things were, then he just had to know for himself. Two days was _far_ too long to have not heard anything yet; and Tamora was the last person he would expect to be floored by something like a virus.

He ran through the tunnel as quickly as his swimming head would allow. It felt like the ground beneath his feet was twisting and turning underneath him, making his steps shaky and uncoordinated. Though he stopped and brought a hand to his head to steady himself when he reached the entrance to the game.

Cringing his eyes shut for a moment, he shook his head and blinked in an attempt to get his vision to right itself again, and looked over the scenery.

In direct contrast to the eerie silence of _Sugar Rush_, _Hero's Duty_ was a loud, active catastrophe. Armored soldiers ran within the main facility while voices could be heard shouting orders back and forth. It was very clear that an aura of alarm had descended over the troops.

Felix's breath caught in his throat at the sight and his heart dropped as he walked further into the game, being careful to avoid getting in the path of one of the larger characters. Though Tamora was relatively easy to spot. Her commanding voice was a pinpoint to her location, and if anything, her light blonde hair was easily distinguishable from the otherwise darker atmosphere of the area.

"Tammy?!" He called out, sounding almost panicked. If her game had been infected too, he didn't know what he would do.

She currently had one of her men by the collar, tugged in close, as she barked words into his panicked face. "Over half of our platoon is in the infirmary right now. Either keep it together or you'll be heading there with my fist lodged halfway down your throat! Do you understand, soldier?!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

Releasing him with a firm shove, Tamora stalked down the hall yet stopped when her name reached her ears. She hadn't heard that voice in two days…

Rigidly, she turned around and took in the sight of Felix standing further down the corridor. This wasn't what she needed, but she couldn't ignore him now that they'd made eye contact.

The bombshell blonde had plenty of pent-up anger in her from all of the incompetence that was going around, but she managed to keep a tight lid on her manic frustrations as she spoke to him. He grinned at her when she turned to spot him and gave her a light wave, though his expression became more worried when she approached, she didn't look happy.

She got closer. "When I told you to stay in your game, Fix-It, I meant _stay in your game_." But he hadn't and now he was here, standing ten feet away, looking frailer and sicker than ever. She wished she didn't have to see him like this; she wished that he'd have stayed put; but most of all…she wished her swimming vision wouldn't have made everything ten times _worse_.

Felix clasped his hands in front of himself nervously and looked up at her as she spoke. "Yes. I know. I'm sorry," he said hurriedly. It was a great relief to see that she was fine - at least, not _terrible_. Her game looked as it usually did - in terms of scenery. It hadn't changed as much as _Sugar Rush_ had, at least not yet - apart from the obvious fact that everyone was freaking out. "I just haven't heard from you in so long. Ralph and I - we were worried about you two," he said, referring to Vanellope as well. "We just wanted to take a quick peek in the Station to make sure everything was alright. But everyone's _gone_, Tammy. There's no one in there!" He stressed, pointing back worriedly in the direction of the tunnel. "Then the Surge Protector told us that almost the entire arcade was infected!" He paused for a moment. "You're not sick, are you?" The panic was rising in his voice again, but he tried to keep himself calm. How well it was working, he wasn't sure, because there was obviously _something_ happening to make everyone so on edge.

As a soldier, it wasn't in Tamora's code to lie. Honor and truth were two of her greatest principles. Besides, she'd nearly ripped Felix a new one for not being straight with her a few days prior, so what kind of obnoxious hypocrite would she be if she didn't answer him truthfully?

Not that that made it easier, _or_ pleasant to admit.

"We're all infected, Fix-It," she revealed, turning to look at the anxious men that continued to barrel down the halls, their thick boots clunking against the floor. "Most of us are able to fight through it, but there's a couple've men whose codes aren't agreeing with the virus. Those very same men are in the infirmary, struggling against muscle pains and raging fevers." She sighed forcefully and looked down at him again. "There's no word on a cure yet."

"... oh no," his shoulders fell and he took on a look of desperation. Tamora couldn't have been infected. Not her. Taking care of viruses was their specialty! And some of the soldiers had been taken out of commission by it? The Nicelanders hadn't been so bad-off that they'd needed medical attention of any kind (at least, he sincerely hoped not); but he had remembered Tamora mentioning that this strain of virus adapted to its host. Maybe it was more aggressive in the sci-fi shooter.

And they _still_ had no idea what to do.

Thinking of nothing else he could do, he simply shook his head in disbelief and moved forward to wrap her leg in a tight hug, not thinking of how it might look in front of the troops. He knew that the taller woman was tougher than he was, in almost every aspect of the word, but he still didn't want her to have to feel the discomfort that Ralph, himself, and now apparently Vanellope had been feeling.

"There's got to be _something_ we can do." His voice was strained, and he wracked his mind for any idea at all that could get rid of this thing - but nothing came to mind.

Releasing another sigh, she reached down and settled her gloved hand over his hat. Though, she quickly decided that speaking to him this way wasn't as effective as it could have been. Thus, she gently ushered him away from her leg and kneeled down, so they were now face-to-face.

"We're doing everything we can," she said. "And we're sure as hell not giving up." Since they were both infected, she saw no trouble in kissing him. Yet, as she went to connect their lips together for the first time in days, a familiar soldier suddenly came forward in a panicked rushed.

"Sergeant Calhoun!"

The woman pulled away from Felix and snapped back up to her full height. "What is it, Kohut?"

"We need you in the infirmary. It's Stevens," he reported.

Tamora didn't need to hear anymore. She looked down at Felix, whose brow knitted in concern at the news. She nodded at him to come along if he so chose, and then hurried with Kohut down the corridor towards the infirmary. As they neared the wing the sound of a man screaming could be heard reverberating through the walls; the shouts were loud and pained, as though he were being tortured to death. Felix noticeably slowed at the horrible sounds. Tamora entered the room, quick and determined – while Felix's footsteps became timid and tentative. Tamora entered first and approached a bed, and, not wanting to be alone, Felix rushed in after her.

A soldier lay on a bed, thrashing uncontrollably, as medics attempted to sedate him.

"What's wrong with him?" she demanded.

"We're not sure. He won't respond to anything. It's like he's lost his mind," a medic reported.

This wasn't unbelievable, since Stevens appeared crazier than a rabies-infested cat. Any attempts to soothe him were foiled by kicking, or clawing, or another form of violence. In spite of this, she boldly approached the bedside and shoved through the cautious bystanders. "_Stevens! Pull yourself together!_" she shouted, attempting to override his wails with her voice. When that didn't work, she took it upon herself to climb up and straddle the man's waist, hoping to pin him down long enough for a sedation.

She managed to weigh down his arms, but an abrupt surge of inhuman strength from his end sent the both of them crashing onto the cold floor. Once there, the crazed soldier flipped them and began attacking her. Intense training allowed her to deflect his attacks, even though she strained against his powerful blows. The medics were instantly by the sergeant's side, trying to pry Stevens off.

Everything changed, however, when Stevens grabbed a nearby gun from the closest ankle holster and shoved the barrel straight into the pulse in Tamora's neck; he did this without a single ounce of hesitation. Before he had the chance to pull the trigger, Kohut shot the man in the back; the bullet pierced his heart, effectively killing him, and rendered him lifeless against her frame. The dead body was then hauled off of her and set back onto the bed, just as he regenerated. Luckily, he was still unconscious.

In the aftermath of the unexpected turn of events, she stood up and stared in horror at the unmoving man that laid on the bed - the individual who, seconds before, hadn't failed to point a gun at her. Clearly, the virus had presented a brand new symptom: _Insanity_.

"…Keep him sedated. Don't let him wake up." For someone who had recently experienced a gun being shoved into their neck, Tamora was impressively calm. She knew better than to lose her head in the midst of chaos. "Keep an eye on the others. The _instant_ their minds start going AWOL you jab them with one of these," she instructed, pointing to a futuristic-looking syringe.

The medics nodded and then headed off to make their rounds, leaving the sergeant by herself. Reaching up, she gently grazed her fingertips over the purplish welt on her neck, where the gun barrel had bitten into the skin.

The room was eerily silent now, and Tamora let out a tense breath and ran a hand through her cropped hair, before something broke the silence and made her turn.

"_Tammy–_" Felix spoke in a shaky whisper. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he scarcely noticed those. Raw _horror_ stained his face. _Never_ had he seen such a display of violence… and performed on his own wife? It was too much.

He wanted to ask if she was alright, but he couldn't get his mouth to work.

She needed to get him out of there.

She gently touched the back of his head and ushered him out of the room wordlessly. The silence was maintained as she led them down the corridor and around the corner. An air-locked door hissed open and granted them entry into what looked like an empty briefing room. Alone with him, she kneeled down as she'd done before the incident with Stevens and reached out, setting her hands upon either of his narrow shoulders. She stared into his watery gaze for no more than three seconds before she pulled him in for a firm hug.

"You shouldn't have seen that."

His own arms reached up to return the gesture, and Tamora didn't have to ask him to know that he was deeply traumatized by what he'd witnessed. Violence of any kind didn't exist in Niceland. There were no guns, no murders, and no reason to sleep with a knife under your pillow. She often forget how innocent Felix was, and how low his tolerance was for witnessing sheer brutality between two human beings.

He agreed wholeheartedly with her. If he could somehow erase that image from his mind, he would do it in a heartbeat. How gamers could be so attracted to doing _that_ sort of thing in a video game was beyond him. Killing and shooting and hurting others… He may not have wanted to know.

"He tried to– y-you almost…" He stuttered and shook his head against her shoulder. "Why would he _do_ that?" He managed to ask. He knew the answer, but he didn't want to believe it. Her game had indeed been affected by the virus.

"He wasn't in his right mind, Fix-It," she replied, reaching out to gently stroke his flushed cheek. He leaned into her touch. Her gaze, however, remained somewhat firm. "Who knows what kind of sick, twisted damage the virus is doing to his head." She shook off the infuriating thought and gingerly swiped beneath one of his damp eyes. "We have instincts programmed into us, and they tend to come out in fight-or-flight situations. Stevens did what he was trained to do. Just with the wrong target."

Tamora didn't plan to tell Felix that this often happened to her on a daily basis. There wasn't a single day that passed where she wasn't injured in some way, shape, or form. But those were things he didn't need to know; it was none of his concern. It was just the nature of her game.

The hand that was set against his face ascended and moved the brim of his hat up slightly. Then, leaning in, she pressed their foreheads together. "I'm _fine._" Comforting didn't come very easy to her; it just wasn't in her code to be sweet or patient when someone was losing it. Even then she had to fight the pressing urge to tell Felix to tough it out. Instead, she settled on something a bit less harsh. "I need you to be strong for me, alright? Can you do that?"

It was a terrible image, seeing someone killed. One that he was sure he'd be trying to forget for a while. He was undeniably shaken up about it - but what Tamora had said was true. It wasn't Stevens' fault. That virus had somehow messed with the soldier's behavior. Interfered with it. He felt undeniably bad for the man. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that the soldier that had been shot was fine now; and Tammy was fine too. Everything was fine, and it was really just him who had been affected by it.

"Yes," he nodded against her forehead and wrung his hands nervously together once again as he tried to collect himself. "Sorry," he said, "I bet I look downright silly. Having a hissy-fit over things I bet you see all the time..." He attempted a smile and leaned back to look at her, somewhat apologetically. "I wouldn't mind getting out of here though."

She shook her head at his apology, implying that he was entitled to feel however he darn well pleased, and when he suggested that they leave the game she went ahead and agreed. "I'll need to take care of a few things before we head out. Meet me by the tunnel." A very soft kiss was pressed to his lips before she stood up and exited the briefing room to finish up some business. He was more than happy to oblige with that, and quickly walked alongside her through the facility until he felt secure enough to make the trip to the tunnel by himself as Tamora went on to take care of her business.

Realistically, Tamora knew that she wouldn't be able to stay with Felix for very long. Not with her men losing their minds back at base. It may have been selfish of her, but if they were truly doomed with no hope of fighting the virus, she wanted to spend time with her husband.

First, she stopped by the infirmary again to see if any other soldiers were experiencing the madness. So far, everything seemed contained and under control. Her next order of business was to make sure that the soldiers who had yet to be taken out of commission were able to handle their own while she was gone. With a promise from Kohut to inform her if anything worsened during her absence, she headed for the tunnel to meet with Felix.

She stopped by her quarters along the way to swap her armor for her civvies, since she planned to cuddle the holy hell out of the fixer while she could; something told her that she wouldn't be able to over the course of the next few days. When she arrived at their assigned meeting place, she reached down and extended her now bare fingers, requesting his hand to hold. He smiled up at her and extended his own hand to meet up with hers, their fingers curling together as they crossed the station and headed into _Fix-It Felix Jr._


	19. Consequences

Luckily for them, the Surge Protector hadn't been there to stop them. Why not, Felix had no clue. He could only guess it was because he was busy.

The tram shuddered to a halt, and Felix was noticeably more relaxed now. He even hopped out of the tram-car with his characteristic 8-bit sound, and offered his hand out for Tamora to take. Everything was quiet, like it had been the last couple of days, and he could only assume that Ralph was still in _Sugar Rush_ with Vanellope. But a little quiet could do them all some good right now. The two of them walked the short distance to their house and allowed themselves in.

"This is _much_ better." Felix said with a sigh of relief and a light laugh, closing the door behind them and turning back around to smile at his wife. This day had been one of the longest he was sure pretty much everyone in the arcade had experienced in a while - and he was more than ready to just sit back and relax.

"Sure is," she replied. She parked it in the nearest chair and began removing her boots, since she couldn't exactly wear them if they chose to lay down. Once they were successfully off and stationed by the front door, she padded into their bedroom and sat on the bed.

The incident with Stevens had yet to leave her mind, and she doubted it would for the remainder of the evening. At least now that they knew what the virus was capable of, they would be able to effectively prepare themselves against it. Even if that meant sedating all of the soldiers that were sent to the infirmary, just to avoid brutal outbursts or unnecessary deaths. No one else needed to die, in spite of the fact that they could regenerate.

Heaving a sigh that tossed up some of her bangs, the blonde laid back on the mattress and curled onto her side. Up until that point she had been steadily ignoring the crippling ache in her body and head, and _especially_ that godforsaken fuzzy buzzing in her ears; out of all the symptoms, she despised that one the most.

Away from her men, she was free to step out of character and bellyache a bit - though neither happened to their full extent. If anything, she just lifted up her hands and massaged her temples, since they were pounding like war drums.

By the time Felix removed his own shoes, Tamora had already moved to the bedroom. Placing his smaller footwear neatly beside hers, he move to follow in after her. He looked at her in concern before moving to hop up onto the bed.

The bed shifted only slightly as he moved to sit down next to her, and he smiled down towards her. She could have been doing anything, and she still would have been beautiful. He couldn't get over it sometimes. But it was rare to see her show signs of discomfort, even when it was just them. He moved his hand down to rest on her head and gently moved his fingers through her hair, in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture.

"Are you alright?" He questioned. He knew she had a lot to be upset about. Her game was going haywire, his game wasn't doing too great either - heck the entire arcade was in a state of apparent quarantine. Not to mention that she might have been starting to feel some of the symptoms herself. It might have been rare, but she had every excuse to let some of her concerns out into the open; in fact, she may have needed it more than the rest of them.

Were it anyone else she wouldn't have hesitated to grab the corresponding wrist, break it, and then shove her gun into the daring individual's face. But since it was Felix, well…it was fine. She slowly lowered her hands away from her head as she opened her eyes, gazing up at him.

Even in the dim lighting of their bedroom his eyes were shining with love and warmth - something that made her stomach do stupid, embarrassing summersaults. She didn't know what she was going to do with him. Or without him.

"Feels like I took a hit to the head," she replied, frowning. The blonde shifted in her position, so she wasn't lying on her side anymore. She laid on her back instead and rested her head on Felix's lap while continuing to look up at him; her fingers extended, gently brushing his cheek before ghosting over his lips.

Her brave little soldier.

More often than not, Tamora believed that she didn't deserve Felix. She'd done absolutely _nothing_ in her life that should have awarded her the nicest, most considerate husband in all the gaming world. He understood her in a way that should have been illegal, could calm her in a manner that rivaled that of a parent soothing their frightened child. A darker, weaker part of her psyche occasionally tried to convince her that one day he'd tire of her hectic lifestyle (or her in general) but that was when she set those pesky insecurities on a table and shot them to pieces.

"You seem to be holding up alright," the sergeant observed. "At least better than the others." She'd noticed that Felix wasn't as bad as Ralph or the other Nicelanders. Perhaps being a 'good guy' pacified his condition. Or maybe he was just lucky.

"I'm doing alright," he answered back, "It comes and goes." He recalled earlier that morning his head had felt like it had been wrapped in a blanket in a hot sauna, and while he had been chasing Ralph his headache had spiked up almost to the point where he couldn't focus. His symptoms seemed to increase exponentially whenever he was put under pressure or stress - which wasn't good for the workday. But the one thing that never seemed to cease was that annoying static-sound that was constantly buzzing in his ears. "And I hope the others are doing alright. They seem a little on edge. Though I can see why." He told her, "And Ralph - I hope he's doing okay." He was still in _Sugar Rush_, as far as he could assume. If he'd said he wasn't worried about Ralph, he would have been lying. The big guy seemed to have it the worst, in terms of how badly his symptoms were affecting him.

"I'm sure Wreck-It is toughing it out. Him and Schweetz are stronger than a pair of stubborn jawbreakers," she commented, thinking of their friends. Both of them wouldn't be taken out easy, let alone surrender when it came down to the nitty-gritty. And even if they did the sergeant planned to be there, protecting them at all costs from the virus that was so fiendishly eager to ruin their lives. It was her foremost duty.

But she'd think of that later. For now, her attention was targeted on the sweet man stroking her hair.

Though the plan was to dedicate the next few hours to basking in one another's company, it was also the last opportunity they'd have to spend time together. Come tomorrow, it was do-or-die time. She would wipe any semblances of emotion off of her mental slate in order to give it her all. There wouldn't be time for loving looks or caring caresses. Only forceful focus and strong strategies. But before she adorned this harsh behavioral routine, there was something she felt compelled to do - something that would grant her a settling piece of mind in the ugly face of a viral Armageddon.

Without saying anything, she reached for the dog tags that hung around her neck; the small metal plates jingled as she wrapped them in the palm of her hand. Then, with a firm tug, the chain snapped off. Her other hand then came to life and assisted the first in situating the tags around Felix's neck, so that he was now the one wearing them. Predictably, they were a bit longer on him than they had been on her, but that didn't matter. The purpose was still evidently clear.

"I want you to hold onto these for me, Fix-It," she told him, patting the tags against his chest. "Keep 'em safe."

Her words and feeling of her hand patting the dangling tags, made his own hand reach up and turn them over in the palm of his hand so he could see them better. Her name glinted off on them, a stunned silence came over him as he realized what she had given him. A wonderful warmth spread across his chest, and he closed his own hand around it, nodding down at her with a smile. "Can do," he told her, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her pixie nose. He would have preferred her lips, but he was enjoying this rare opportunity he had to look down at her for once.

He was also by no means an expert on the symbolism behind being presented with a gift such as that - but it touched him nonetheless. It also unnerved him slightly. If one of his guesses was correct, then he could assume that they wouldn't be seeing each other for a little while... Not _too _long he hoped. But, this wasn't a parting gift either. It couldn't be. "At least until you come back for them." He added, moving to rest a hand gently on the side of her face. She would be coming back. He believed wholeheartedly that she wouldn't give up until this arcade was cleared of whatever this virus was; and he would keep those tags safe for her until she did.

Felix's last statement went intentionally unanswered. She remained silent and gazed into his eyes before turning her face into the hand that rested on her cheek; she kissed the center of his gloved palm once and then set her head forward again, sighing.

"Finding a cure isn't cutting it. This virus keeps changing its genetics on us," she said, speaking her thoughts. "The only other option we're looking at is a mass reset." Though, even that would have its consequences - consequences that made her sick to her stomach. "That would mean that every game would be set back to its original factory setting."

The virus would be free from their systems, but…everything else would be _gone_.

Everything they'd worked for together, had achieved and created, would no longer exist. This included she and Felix's marriage, Ralph and Vanellope's friendship, and even Ralph's general acceptance in the arcade. Every single lasting memory would disappear from their codes forever without a single trace, as well as the possibility of restoring it.

And given that it was highly unlikely that the _Sugar Rush_ incident would repeat again and they'd all establish their friendships and relationships as they had, it was truly devastating. Because in the end…

"_We'd all forget._"


	20. Mementos

Felix's admiring smile fell away at her words, and his brow knit together in concern at the implication of what she was saying. _Back to factory settings?_ They couldn't do that. Surely there had to be some way to stop this virus that didn't involve wiping their memories.

They'd gotten rid of viruses in games before - sure, they had been isolated, and not as severe - but they had done it! This was just on a larger scale. They could do it.

They had to.

"What?" He asked numbly, the full realization of what this could mean began to dawn on him. "No, we can't do that." He shook his head, moving his hands from her face to clasp together in front of himself. "Think about everyone in the arcade! What about Q*Bert and his friends? They'll have nowhere to go." He told her fretfully, and his heart began racing again. Though he tried to remain calm. "Or Ralph. He'll be alone again. I don't want that. And Vanellope! Oh no -" He trailed off, bringing a terrified hand up to the side of his face.

All of those things were terrible, but that wasn't what was on the forefront of his mind. He didn't even want to _say _it…

"There's got to be _something_ else we can do." He leaned forward and reached for one of her hands, holding onto it with both of his. As he leaned forward, the dog tags she had given him clinked together on their chain, and a cold chill ran through him. Could she have really been giving him something to remember her by? His grip tightened on her hand, and he brought his forehead down to rest on it. "I can't forget about you, Tammy."

When her hand was taken and pressed between two slightly smaller ones, she felt the decision become _that_ much harder. She couldn't, for the life of her, stand to see Felix this way - not when it was because of something she'd said. She knew that he would have had to find out at some point, but that didn't eliminate her guilt.

Her position changed as she finally sat up. She didn't remove her hand from its placement between his, but she did lean in close to him, so that she was speaking against his hat. "It's not about what we can or can't do, Fix-It," she began. "It's about what _needs_ to be done. We can't stand back and let an entire arcade go out of business because we let our emotions get in the way." And there was where her "tough soldier" mentality kicked in, yet she quickly subdued it so she wouldn't end up shouting. "I'd rather be taken out by a hundred Cy-Bugs than forget about you, but if it means taking care of this virus once and for all…"

She didn't have to finish. The end of her sentence was perfectly clear: They would _have_ to go through with it.

As much as it killed her to know that she would go back to hurting each and every day, to being mercilessly haunted by nightmares of Brad - of the putrid _stench_ of his flesh being churned in the sharp gears of a Cy-Bug's mouth, she was willing to endure it, all for the sake of restoring order in their catastrophic world.

As she shifted her position, his grip tightened on her hands, and he leaned in closer to rest against her.

He needed her; and not just to reach the fancy plates that they stored in the higher-up cupboards. He needed her to ground him. To keep him calm, and to motivate him. He was sure if it wasn't for her being there at that moment, he would have been dealing with this much worse. He would have dealt with the whole Stevens situation far worse, and even back when they'd first met, if she hadn't been there to calm him down, then they both probably would have been buried under six feet of chocolate milk mix. He'd needed her before he'd even known it.

"It's not so bad." He said, pulling back to look at her; and his vision was becoming blurry with unwelcome tears once again. "We don't have to get rid of it." He told her, but he knew that was not true. The Nicelanders couldn't keep going like that. Ralph couldn't keep going like that. The soldiers in her game certainly couldn't keep going like that; and _Sugar Rush_ looked like it had hit its best-before date ages ago. He knew what the right thing to do was, but for once he found himself seriously hesitating to do it; and that did not make the situation any easier.

Releasing his hold on her hand, he instead moved to wrap his arms around her middle in a tight hug and press his head under her chin. "There has to be another way to fix this." He seriously hoped there was, but he was afraid that he was only trying to convince himself at that point. Still, he refused to believe that their whole lives could just go away like that. This virus had been unpleasant from the get-go, but it was nowhere near as bad as the consequences arising from it were proving to be.

Felix's reoccurring wish for an alternative solution was _maddening_. It took everything she possessed to refrain from grabbing onto his shoulders and telling him, quite angrily, that _no_, there _WASN'T_ another way. She wanted him to understand this because the sooner he accepted that there was no 'fixing' anything, the sooner he would be able to start preparing himself for their end. But…

Why did he have to be so _sensitive_? Why did he have to be so _persistent_? Why did he have to be so good?

She was grateful that he had decided to disconnect their gazes and hug her, because if she had to look into his teary eyes any more that night…she'd lose it just like Stevens had. Possibly worse. Her arms held onto him while her knees slipped beneath his body, so she was cradling him on her lap, as she often did, to try and console him through his unhappiness; she sighed as she closed her eyes, holding him.

"There was a reason I didn't shoot you when we first met," she mused, recalling their first encounter nearly a year before. "And no, it wasn't because of your darn googoo eyes." She pulled her head back and then kissed the top of his hat lovingly. "It's because I thought to myself: 'What kind of brainless idiot would invite himself into a game, a first-person shooter, no less, without ever once considering the consequences?'"

And that's when she knew. Felix _didn't_ think. He acted. If someone was in trouble, if someone needed his help, he wouldn't hesitate to put his life on the line. That, to Tamora, was true bravery. It was also stupidity, but she respected him for it.

"You're stronger than you think, Fix-It. It doesn't matter if you're high definition or not," she continued, directing her fingers beneath his chin. She hadn't wanted to before, but now she felt that eye-contact was imperative. Thus, she gently pushed his head back, so as to capture his gaze with her own. "If it comes down to it and there's no one else around, I need to know that you'll be able to pull that plug with me."

This moment felt almost surreal. Like he was caught in a nightmarish loop that refused to stop, and just kept getting worse. All of the events that had happened before had been far from pleasant - seeing everyone's health begin to deteriorate, seeing the games themselves begin to fall away, and even seeing a character snap entirely - but this? This brought all of the bad things that had happened together in a terrible crescendo.

Why wasn't she even _trying_ to find another solution? The buzzing sound in his head spiked up in volume at that moment, but he could care less about it at that point. If anything, it just made him bury his face into the curve of her shoulder and _attempt_ to keep himself calm. Much easier said than done, and he could feel his breath getting panicky and uneven.

If he was this much of a mess at just the _idea_ of losing someone he cared about, he didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to actually go through with it - and not only that, but live with it every single day. Like Tamora would be forced to if they went through with this.

But if they didn't, then everyone - not just his friends - could be in danger.

This was without a doubt the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. But after a moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded slowly, pulling himself back in to hug her again.

He wasn't making this easy. Not by a long-shot. But when the fixer began nodding to reflect that he would go through the mass reset if it came down to it, Tamora felt prouder than she'd ever been of him. She squeezed him in the embrace he established, conveying both her approval and love.

The dog tags around his neck clinked softly against themselves, and a thought occurred to him. He shifted his position slightly, and released his hold on her for a moment to tug one of his gloves off, then reached up to hold it in her hand. "I know it may not be your size, and it's nothing special," he began, and leaned against her again, "but you should keep it." He told her, still holding onto her hand. Maybe there would be time to get her something better before she had to go back to her game; but right now, he just wanted to sit there.

She looked at the small offering in her palm and felt her icy demeanor begin to melt at an alarming rate. She hadn't expected him to give her something in return, and the fact that he had truly surprised her.

Her fingers slowly closed around the glove as she exhaled a shuddering breath. Wordlessly, she hunched over and held onto him, burying her face into his shoulder. Something so plain as a glove shouldn't have affected her so deeply. _Nothing_ should have. But here she was, trembling slightly, and trying to keep herself from showing the _ultimate_ form of weakness.

Needless to say, that didn't stop her eyes from fogging over with liquified emotion - an act that was so foreign to her character that it legitimately _terrified_ her. She hadn't cried since Brad, and she wasn't…she couldn't…not in front of Felix.

Not in front of _anyone_.

Pulling away from their hug, she quickly reached up and swiped at her eyes with the side of her hand; wetness and eyeliner splotched her skin, but they were gone with another fierce wipe. Her voice was a bit thicker when she attempted to change the subject, or at least shove the attention off of her. "We should get some sleep. While we can, anyway."

Sleep seemed like a foreign concept at the moment. He didn't know how much of a chance he'd have at falling asleep that night. He just wanted to spend some more time with her. But they could both, undeniably, use a little rest. Especially with how busy the next day was shaping up to be. As much as he didn't want to, he found himself nodding again, and pulling himself up to kiss her on the cheek before laying down at her side. Maybe he could just pretend to sleep.

Tamora knew as well that neither of them were likely to get any sleep that night, or not any _valuable_ sleep. Still, it was best to at least go through the motions, just to say that they'd tried. Following the kiss she received to her cheek, she reached toward the bedside table, set down the glove he'd given her, and then returned to the smaller form that was already laying down.

She pulled him into her arms and tucked him against her body; her knees scooped beneath the back of his calves while she leaned in close. She found his mouth and kissed him one, two, _three_ times - each stronger and needier than the last. When that was done, she pulled back and sighed, shutting her eyes.

Come sunrise, she would leave _Fix-It Felix Jr._ and more than likely never return.


End file.
